Systole et diastole
by Zann Steves
Summary: "Potter, you might not believe this, but I never considered not sleeping with you a sacrifice." she hissed angrily. Brown eyes glaring at him scornfully over the rims of her glasses, fighting to keep the amusement off of her face. It was amusing for her to think that he wouldn't give up. He loved her first. And always would
1. Prologue

Preface

"Hellen we're through..."

That was the only part of that sentence I absorbed, distracted by the rain. That and I was so sick of his fucking voice after what he just said.

Rain. I hate that damnable substance. How it runs down on my face and gets in my eyes. How it soaks my uniform right down to my underwear. But, it's a comfort for now- for this moment it's welcome. It's a familiar reminder. For right now it's needed to heal, to help me cover up what I've done by giving in. It helps hide my regrets, because my silent tears are the only thing that is giving away my pain. I push my soaked and stringy hair out of my eyes. His presence disgusts me. How he refuses to look at me. Damn those eyes that could do so much to me with just a look. Damn him. How I loved him.

The way he got under my skin. Positively wriggled there. Silver tongued he was not. However, his strange awkwardness after the fact that he pull his head from his ass and became a human. The way he makes me feel. I hate him. I loathe him. Because I can't believe the fact that he thought I was 'in danger' and 'an extreme liability.' But he, apparently, 'still loves me.' The fact that our relationship wasn't common knowledge, or even known to others, didn't seem to cross my mind until later. If he thought that I didn't notice that he said this on the pitch, that he was nearly a half a pitch away and not not even looking at me, was the final straw. He didn't even have the common courtesy to look me in the eye. Though a 'brave' Gryffindor, he was a eunuch when it came to hurting others feelings. I was looking at his hair instead of trying to catch his attention. The hair I had spent many a hour running my hands though in the broom cupboards. I seem to inadvertently made my way over there, over to him. Before I know what I have done, a bright red hand print has be hung to blossom on his cheek, glasses askew. I can't help feeling a perverse pleasure for my meager revenge after the shock of what I did subsides.

As I turn and walk away from him, I ponder that perhaps maybe I could talk Bill's fiancee into putting in a word for me over at Beauxbatons for a transfer. Maybe I should take up smoking again. Just another small victory for the sore looser with not enough sense to hold onto and fight for what she had sullied. Her lies giving false hope and whispers, promises to a future together. Pipe dreams and sour promises of two teenagers made to grow up too fast.

Madam Longbottem was right.

I was a coward. A god damned fool for believing in anything outside of what my mother had built before my departure.

Not anymore. I was done. Let them rot for all I care.

Burn them to the ground. Epaod fud, all of them.

Epaod fud means 'filthy morons', or that's what google translate claims.

beta'd by Hungergameslover04


	2. Chapter One

Introduction of an Ambitious Girl

Bent over her desk, hair askew, nose mere millimetres from the parchment, with ink blots and broken quills scattered around her as she paraphrased furiously from The Daily Prophet in front of her, her horn rimmed glasses slipping down her sweaty, freckled nose, she scribbled furiously.

Hellen looked up temporarily as dawn was starting to appear. She carefully chose another cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag as she surveyed the Hogwarts grounds from her window in Gryffindor tower. She then quickly proceeded with her work, realizing that if she wanted to look presentable for breakfast, she would have to finish soon.

She continued, only pausing to take long drags from the cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth. She relished the feel as the nicotine soaked into her lungs.

She was in her element. Sweat dripping down her back and soaking through her long sleeved top, and making it stick to her skin, she knew these would be some of the last days of privacy she had for a while. When she returned home there would always be a family dinner, or a piano lesson, or something else that would interrupt her peace.

Smirking down at her paper as she finished, satisfied with what she written, she walked over to her trunk fetched her school robes, then walked over to the communal bathroom to clean the ink stains from her hands and face.

She removed the pins from the pin curls that she carefully set the night before, (her mother would do this for her until she came to Hogwarts, and then she learned herself) she brushed out her shoulder length, now wavy hair, then carefully pinned and sprayed it until it was exactly the way she wanted it. She quickly slipped the itchy school robes on and grabbing her black shoes that her mother had deemed "fit for an ambitious girl," she grabbed the pack of cigarettes and slipped them and her lighter into her pockets before going down to the great hall for breakfast.

With other people.

Sigh.

She just hated other humans, especially idiots. Well, accept her friend Luna, a slightly mentally unstable third year Ravenclaw who she could have a conversation with without feeling the need to bash her head against the wall.

Other people bothered her due to their lack of methodical repetition that she had come to accept as her life. Their tempers and the fact that they were always getting involved in things they shouldn't. (Although she however doesn't have a spotless record herself, she personally doesn't count the multiple detentions for firing a hex or two at Potter in the hallway as anything too serious.)

She hated that bastard. He could never stop ruffling his hair or getting into trouble. That and his daily harassment of her person. She hated the self righteousness of the youths of today. She looked up from her brooding to see a blond head walking next to her looking off into the distance.

"Hello Luna." She said, starting to feel better already. Luna looked at her and smiled dreamily.

"Hello, I don't suppose you have remembered that today is the last task, Percy will be here instead of Crouch I think. After all Crouch did refuse to join the rotfang conspiracy and was eaten by Scrimgeour." Said Luna, eyes becoming as misty as her voice as she talked of her strange fantasies written by her father for The Quibbler magazine which he owns and writes in.

She pushed the door of the great hall open and ushered Luna inside. "C'mon let's sit down yea'?" She said and Luna sat next to her at the Gryffindor table. "Here's today's copy of The Daily Prophet. You read me my horoscope and I'll butter you some toast, eh?" She rushed out trying to keep Luna some what lucid before she could take her to madam Pomfrey for her potions. She was not quite sure what they did for Luna but had followed the matron's orders since third year when Luna had originally asked her where the hospital wing was.

Hellen listened with half an ear as she buttered toast for Luna, carefully putting strawberry jam on each piece of toast before cutting it into four wedges and making a stack of them on a plate for her.

It wasn't that Luna was incapable of caring for herself, it was the fact that it was a part of their daily routine that had formed over the years. Hellen then started placing her own breakfast on her plate and poured Luna orange juice. Around that time Luna finished reading the horoscopes and was happily munching on her toast. When they finished it was nearly six o'clock and the others started to pour into the great hall as the two girls headed off to the hospital wing.

When they arrived at the hospital wing Hellen sat outside and would read her book before Luna returned after about ten minutes and then they headed back to the great hall to wait for the prophet (the one they read is always from the day before as it will give Hellen time to write her synopsis in her book before the next day.)

They took their seats in the same spots as before and made small talk until the paper arrived. Luna had to do a charms essay so Hellen decided to read her book "The Great Gatsby".

Hellen wasn't even startled when Potter through himself next to her "Prewett! Fancy a date with me?" He said messing up his hair and smirking. She sighed heavily in frustration and looked at him over her glasses.

"Pipe the fuck down, I'm trying to read." She turned back to her book, gripping it so hard her knuckles were turning white.

"So that's a yes? Because you didn't say no, and we both know how you're my lucky charm." He said, looking hopefully at her. She sighed sleepily before carefully inserting her bookmark and setting her book back on the table.

"No that was not a yes. Now fuck off chicken little." She scathingly responded.

"what did I do to earn the name chicken little?" He asked looking positively scandalised.

"Oh I don't know sir scar hurts-o-lot." She responded, bored, looking at her book with longing. "Why do you keep harassing me anyways Potter, you and I both know that I won't change my response." She turned away before she could see the flash of hurt cross his face. "If you got that through you thick skull you would have saved yourself a broken nose." Luna looked up.

"Are you talking about the second task?" She asked curiously.

"Yeah. I am. I suppose. Off you go Potter, your daily harassment has been completed, besides I can't stand the smell of your ego, it's giving me a headache, let alone making my I.Q. plummet by the secondhand ill be needing all of my brain functioning properly for my OWLS." She got up and Luna followed her out of the great hall and they went separate ways to their first classes

•••

It was lunchtime and Hellen was surprised to see her Aunt Molly sitting at the Gryffindor table along with Bill. She quickly grabbed Luna by the wrist and went and hid over at the Ravenclaw table.

It's not like she is embarrassed to be seen with Aunt Molly, it's the fact that Aunt Molly would be constantly mothering her, something she really does not care for. Like telling her that she needed to take care of her appearance if she wanted to get married and have kids. She then would wink at Potter.

Fucking Potter.

He always seemed to be the cause of the things that made her cringe. Like getting married. Or child birth.

Both things that made Hellen cringe.

Hellen never planed on getting married. Let alone with Potter. It's not that she wasn't attracted to Potter, it's just that they really didn't have similar goals.

Or interests.

Or Hobbies.

Well at least from what she heard. They were half way though their food When Aunt Molly spotted her.

"HELLEN DEAR! oh I don't think she can hear me, OH HELLEN!" Hellen looked round startled at her Aunt, her brown eyes wide with shock, cheeks red with embarrassment. She turned back to Luna

"I believe we have been found out, my dear." Luna glanced over Hellen's shoulder with raised eyebrows then returned to her book, before replying"I believe we have, darling, I believe we have." without looking up from her book

"Please come with me." Hellen pleaded, eyes wide.

"Not a chance, they are swarming with wrackspurts. I shan't wish to be infested." Luna gasped. Hellen sighed and made her way across the Hall.

"Hello Aunt Molly, how are you?" Said Hellen with her politician face on; smiling wide, smile showing all teeth no creases or lines, and she got ready to pretend to be looking interested and nodding and saying "yes" and "I suppose so."

"I'm fine Hellen dear! How are you, I haven't seen you since August! My how tall you've gotten!" She said, patting Hellen's arm

"I'm fine Aunt Molly, really. And thank you!" Aunt Molly looked at Hellen for a second

"did you cut your hair? It's shorter." She said looking critically at her, eyes squinting.

"It was a result of a accident in potions. I rather like it, it's easier to take care of." Said Hellen, teeth gritted. "Well I really have to get going I have to go to potions in a bit, anyways nice seeing you I'll talk to you later, okay? Bye!" said Hellen not letting her Aunt get a word in and then she kept moving out the door and as soon she was out of sight she lit a cigarette and took a nice long drag, finally calmed down.

Luna came out a second later and sat down about two feet apart from Hellen. Neither of them really enjoyed human contact.

"You're a bastard, you are." Said Hellen, exhaling smoke as she did so.

"She told me that she wants to meet up with you after potions to walk the grounds with you kids and talk about your school year." Replied Luna with a small smile. She seemed to have forgotten her wrackspurt problem for the moment.

Hellen sighed with annoyance at Luna's words. Damn humans.

•••

Hellen was now all clean and wearing a green wiggle dress that was her mother's in the sixties. Her mother, Norma Prewett, who married her father, Gideon Prewett, was a sports columnist for The Daily Prophet, very well respected and almost a decade older than Molly Weasley. The fact that Hellen was born at all was a shock to many and as a result Hellen was now an ambitious young adult whom wanted to follow in father's footsteps and become a politician. It was also the reason she was aloud to smoke like a chimney.

Hellen met them in the great hall a half hour later, red hair falling in her eyes as she ran there for as not to be late. "hello Bill" said Hellen awkwardly. Trying to avoid the inevitable human contact.

"give me a hug" he said grabbed her in a hug and swung her around

"Put me down Bill." She said forcefully. He carefully set her down and she loosely linked arms with him and they were off walking around the grounds, listing to Aunt Molly talk about her days at Hogwarts.

"You know, Harry dear, that my brothers and I were all four years apart. Gideon, Hellen's father was the oldest. Then there was Fabian, and me. I was never at school with Gideon, although he was head boy and later was a Wizengamot. Fabian was also very studious but he was the quidditch team captain, he was a beater." Hellen looked over at Hermione who seemed to be listening. Ron was looking off in the distance eyes unfocused, clearly not paying attention.

Good. Maybe she wasn't the only one bored enough to rip her hair out.

"Oh what do they do now?" Potter asked clearly unaware that he asked the wrong thing.

"they're dead Harry. Hellen was almost a year and a half when it happened." Said Bill stiffly. Hellen took a long drag from her cigarette and looked straight ahead stone faced, eye twitching.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't know!" Harry rushed as Aunt Molly became teary.

"It's fine" said Bill. There was an awkward pause.

"So what does your mother do, Hellen?" Asked Potter in an effort to restore a some what comfortable atmosphere.

"She works at the prophet. She's a sports writer." Relayed Hellen carelessly, lazily flicking some ash off the end of her cigarette and into the long grass.

"Oh yes she started working there in '59 I believe." Said Aunt Molly grasping onto the happier topic.

"Wow. That must be fun going to see matches with your mum Hellen." Said Potter trying to engage Hellen in conversation

"Not really as I don't go. She normally takes Ron, Fred or George." Hellen pushed her glasses up her nose.

"I remember going when I was really little." Said Bill after a pause "I would sit on uncle Gids' shoulders so I could see. I would accidentally drip something like lemonade on his head and he wouldn't care. Not one bit."

"That's because the hair potion was so thick it would roll right off of his head." Said Aunt Molly with a snort.

Hellen sighed. She was having such a wonderful time. Not.

A/N: a huge thanks to slenderpanda597 for beta'ing this chapter.

I would ask you to review, but I know you won't.

Don't own. That pleasure belongs exclusively to J.K. Rowling.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two - The Aftermath

Hellen looked down at the field, stoic. She never really cared much for Digory. He seemed to lack substance, things that made others matter and life worth living. Things that made it crisp, cold and ultimately human. But she couldn't help but feel terrible for the parent of the pretty boy, the one who used life like a tissue. As she listened to the wails of the dead boy's father, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to love something or someone that much.

Her mother was fine, of course, but how can a fifty five year old witch have any close bond with their child, having given her over to a nanny as soon as she was born? Katherine, an older Welsh squib who could not speak a word of English, taught Hellen the language she would need to learn in order to be apart of the Wizengamot. As 'Welsh must be able to be spoken as well as English.' The last time she saw Katherine was when she left for Hogwarts. She remembered seeing the old hunched woman fall out of sight, not to be seen again. It was like losing a mother to an unsuspected death. After weeks of sending letters home, her mother sent a three word note. 'Stop. She's gone.' That was the day she stopped writing letters home to her mother besides the occasional letter and birthdays. Hellen doesn't remember her father and doesn't miss him. She believes that she was too young to love anything but herself as babies are extremely narcissistic things, thinking all others are there only to care for them.

But as she looked down at the field she realises that the only person she would be truly sorry if they died would be Luna. Hellen cared for Luna like she was her sister. 'Well that's not true, what about Percy?' a small voice in her head questioned. Well, she supposed that he was alright too. He was the only one with whom she kept in regular correspondence with. She didn't really owl Luna. Seeing as she believes that Ridley, her eagle owl, is a carrier of Nargles or something like that.

It's after that Hellen realizes she wants to have a child, not just be obligated to by her status. Well, not right then, maybe in 15 years or something. Or thirty. Kids are narcissistic after all. That, and making one involves human contact - not something that she really enjoys receiving or giving.

She then realises that it's been seven months since she got any news from her mother. And she was perfectly okay with that. "Ministers don't get hugs for no reason," Mother had said, "They get them when they have won elections."

She looks down at dead Diggory and feels no sorrow. She walks away contemplating her slightly sociopathic tendencies. She hasn't been able to talk to Percy and now that Diggory had gone and gotten himself killed by not knowing how to dodge a damn curse, Percy will be on damage control, unable to speak to Hellen. Hellen leans against a wall and realise how desensitised she has become.

She cries not for Diggory, but for herself, proud of her detachment.

Hellen makes her way to the castle, passing her mother as she climbs the stairs to enter the Great Hall.

They don't acknowledge the other as they pass.

And Hellen is just fine.

Just fine.

•••

She wakes up and peeks through the curtain blearily. Lucy's hand hangs though her vision. She scrambles for her glasses and watch, poking herself in the eye with the handle of the glasses before peeking at the watch, eyes watering.

It was five thirty.

Hellen gripped the sides of her head, pulling her hair, fingernails clamping her scalp. She curls into a tight ball as to try not to get lost in the madness.

The voices were murmuring again. A constant buzzing in the back of her mind.

For the first time in eight years, Hellen does not write her summary.

•••

Hellen trapes her way to the Great Hall to see Luna waiting for her. Luna doesn't speak but sits and, twiddling her thumbs, watches as Hellen picks a hangnail until it starts to bleed. Hellen seems to revel in how the stinging sensation seems to rid herself of the the fog that has been clouding her head. From the constant murmuring. She watches as the drop of blood slides down her wrist and into her robes. She couldn't care less at the moment if it stained her white undershirt. 'Let the "precious" elves take care of the blood stain,' she thought savagely, a twisted smile on her thin lips.

At six o'clock Hellen walked Luna to the infirmary. She waited inside this time, looking at the neat and orderly rows of beds lining the walls, figuring that Potter was in the one with the privacy curtain drawn. She get out her book, writes on a piece of parchment and puts it on his nightstand.

I'm only backing you because it might look good when- if I'm still alive -this plays out. My views don't correlate with yours. I don't approve of Muggle-borns in high positions. I don't like that they are currently trying to dissolve the ancient noble houses and take them out of power.

~HCP

•••

Hellen and Luna are sitting on the train, both laying down and taking turns at flicking exploding snap cards at a cork target that they had stuck to the wall. "What are your plans for the summer, love?" asked Hellen. She was losing to Luna, who had managed to get six cards stuck into the board versus Hellen's two.

"I'm going to go with daddy and see if we can study the effects of Nargles on Freshwater Plimpies and their growth."

Hellen looks at her blankly. "Sounds fun. Mum say we're going to be staying with a friend of hers."

It lapsed back into a heavy silence where the only noises were Hellen swearing under her breath every time Luna would make her card explode on contact. Hellen lost horribly. "Look who has to wear the hat," said Luna with relish, throwing the coonskin hat at Hellen who proceeded to put it on her head, tail hanging sadly down the side. Hellen lit a fag and took a deep breath playing with the the end of the tail, looking at the board.

"Next year this thing is yours," she said, gesturing to the hat. Luna just shook her head, smiling.

"Anything from the trolley dears?" came the voice of the women who ran the food cart. Hellen sat up.

"Can I have ten chocolate frogs please?"

"Here you are, that'll be three galleons." Hellen handed over the galleons and then proceeded to flick half of them at Luna, who was sitting leaning against the window. Hellen sat on the other bench facing the window.

"If you get a Morgana may I please have it?"

"Not unless you give me your Cassiopeia," Luna said, smiling serenely.

Hellen sent her an affronted look and began to unwrap her frogs. "Are you kidding me? I got all Dumbledores," she exclaimed. She threw them down in disgust, not wanting to look at the old man or his twinkling eyes. "I'm going to sleep, wake me up when we get close." Hellen then curled up like a cat under her cloak.

•••

"Wake up, 40 minutes till the station," said Luna after throwing the hat that had fallen from Hellen's head at the sleeping girl. Hellen jolted awake and sat up.

"I need to get my book back from filth, you comin'?"

"No, I want to finish reading this." Luna held up the Quibbler, which had what looked like a fur ball on the cover.

"I'll be back."

As she turned to go, Luna jumped up and set the hat back on her head. "Here you go! My my, you look spiffy." Hellen gave her a sad look before she left. She heard Luna laughing loudly. Hellen lit up a fag and pushed up her glasses before walking to the back of the train.

•••

"Granger, I need my book back if you don't mind," Hellen said, throwing herself into a seat.

Fred and George came into the compartment. "Nice hat," George said, sniggering.

"What was that? I can't hear you over how excellent I look in this hat," she said with a fake sneer and hair toss. "So my book please, it's not like I don't love this conversation, but I do have a beautiful blond to return to."

Potter watched her from the corner of the compartment. Hellen quirked an eyebrow at him. He stared defiantly back at her, green eyes piercing.

Granger tossed her the book. Hellen got up, mock tipped her hat and walked out the compartment calling, "budreddi ddiwrnod da!" over her shoulder as she sauntered down the hall, whistling a tune that she couldn't quite place.

Now, how to cleanse the book?

"Wait! Hellen!"

She turned to see Potter walk out of the compartment.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"I want you to know that I figured out why I keep pursuing you."

"Oh finally giving up, I hope?" Hellen said scathingly.

"You don't want to know why?"

"Not especially."

"It's the way you also abide by your beliefs, even though your morals are wrong. You'd be willing to kill for those beliefs. I'm giving up," Potter declared.

"Why?" Hellen wasn't even partially interested; she began picking at her nails to show how bored she was.

"You're a fridgid, cold-hearted bitch. You're not even a pretty girl; you're mean, heartless, self obsessed! Mainly your engaged to be engaged to one of my peers and I can't do it forever. I can't keep doing this to myself, not anymore. I'm not a fucking dog and I won't deal with your - your toxic hatred! But for some reason I can't stay away from you. Like a moth to the flame."

"But that's the thing Potter, I never wanted you and I never will. I don't want a guy that falls back on their family name or past accomplishments."

"That, and you'll be engaged to a prick by next new year," Potter finished.

"If you mean a respectable young person with good blood lines, decent connections and preferably not my second cousin; yes."

"Who are you hoping for?"

"That's not your concern." She turned away and left him alone standing in the hallway.

•••

"Hey babe I got it back, its yours for the summer, although you may wish to clean it first." She tossed the book to Luna who carefully stored it in her bag.

"They're not so bad Hellen. I don't see why you hate them."

"I don't hate them. I hate that they spit on our customs, using terms like 'barbaric'. The wizarding world is a different culture than the slums they came from. I won't have them tarnishing the name. How 'bout a game of exploding snap before we get there?"

Luna looked up with a smile.

She wasn't against Muggle-borns, a blood traitor was the term best used to describe her.

Luna was the only person she tried to keep politics separate with.

Because Luna was like a child in so many ways. Like her child.

Hellen knew that she wasn't. Luna was independent.

•••

"Oh bollocks. We're here, I have to go meet up with the Weasleys. Farewell, I guess," she said, picking at a hangnail. With a short jerky stiff wave and a quick kiss on the cheek, she grabbed her bag and pushed and shoved her way through the crowd to the end of the train, away from her best friend.

•••

"'Lo, you got my trunk?" she said, elbowing her way past a second year.

"Here you are. Your mother is outside, have fun," said Fred, passing it over to her.

"Cheers, Freddie, see you Sunday." She pushed her glasses up her nose and dragged her trunk out the door and down the steps, towards her mother.

Norma Prewett was an older woman. Hellen looked like her, except Hellen's jaw line was more square and her eyes brown opposed to her mother's severe cold grey and thick glasses she wore due to her poor vision, inherited from her father.

Norma nodded to acknowledge Hellen. "Come here," she said stiffly, giving Hellen a awkward pat on the back. "Ready to leave?" she said fingering Hellen's collar and smoothing it down. She then went to touch the uneven ends of Hellen's hair and tsked at Hellen. "What in Merlin's name have you done to your hair?" her mother said with a disappointed look up at Hellen, who towered over the older woman. Hellen just shook her head. This was expected. Her mother, the frank woman who always took care of Hellen's career first, and for that Hellen was grateful. She just wished that she was a bit more tactful.

Otherwise it was great.

Sometimes.

Well, not really.

"Lets go home and drop off your stuff. I want takeaway."

Hellen grabbed onto her arm and they disapparated.

A/N

thanks to BrideofSpock for being my Beta for the chapter!

Don't own anything, all belongs to J.K. Rowling.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three- Teenage Angst Explodes

"So you lost a bet I see."

Hellen looked up from her curry and nodded.

They were sitting in the dining room, both sitting at the heads of the table, staring the other down. This was the first time either of them had spoken for the last half hour.

"Yes," Hellen said quietly.

"Do sit up straight. Good posture makes for a intimidating person. I have tickets to the Puddlemere United game this Saturday. Do you want to come?"

Hellen looked up, surprised. Number one, she never failed to be astonished at her mother's remarkable ability to change topics in a second, and number two, her mother generally took one of her cousins to the game. "Really?"

Her mother nodded and looked at her as though she'd gone mental.

"I would really like that.." Hellen said wistfully. A thought occurred to her. "I'm going to have wear my kaftan, aren't I?" she added dejectedly.

"Of course. You know sun repelling charms aren't that effective, besides you can still get freckles while wearing them," her mother said sharply, giving Hellen a stern stare.

God how she hated kaftans.

They made her feel like a bat.

She looked down at her curry as her mother continued to talk. "You'll probably need to cover your head as well. Nothing that scarf that we got in India won't fix."

"Do I have to?"

"I've had the worst day, Hellen, and you being a little brat is not helping. I really messed you up. You're not a nice person, not at all. Get out of my sight," said her mother venomously.

"The amount of times I spoke to you when I was little I can count on one hand!" Hellen shouted, standing up and throwing her fork down on the table, making a small dent in the smooth mahogany surface. "Besides, YOU DIDN'T EVEN RAISE ME!" Hellen grabbed a ugly china plate from the wall and smashing it.

"No. No I didn't. You want to know why? Because I was dealing with the grief of loosing yo-" hissed out her mother her ears quickly becoming scarlet.

"Don't. We both know how many men you brought back here. You thought you were being discrete. Ha. I wasn't stupid you know. I know that the nights that Katherine brought me to her cottage weren't 'just fun treats'," said Hellen with as much poison in her voice as possible.

"I WAS DOING PRIVATE INTERVIEWS WITH PROFESSIONAL QUIDDITCH PLAYERS!" her mother snarled, throwing her wine glass at the opposite wall.

"ALL OF THEM I SAW THE NEXT MORING AT BREAKFAST WITH KATHERINE WHILE YOU WERE AT WORK!" said Hellen hotly jabbing her finger in her mothers direction eyes watering.

"I AM ALLOWED TO HAVE A CAREER. IM ALLOWED TO DO AS I WISH AS I WAS ONCE MARRIED!" her mother said, shaking hard as she stamped her foot in anger.

"DID YOU KNOW IT WAS OLAF ANDERSON WHO TAUGHT ME HOW TO FLY WHEN I WAS FOUR? THAT LUDO BAGMAN TAUGHT ME HOW TO PROPERLY SWING A BEATERS BAT? Of course not! You weren't there!"

"This is why it's hard to get you contracted - because all you do is NIT PICK and bitch and whine about nothing! Forget it. I'll ask Ron if he wants to go to the match instead. Have fun home alone with no friends to talk to. I'm suspending your rights to owl, floo or have any other type of contact with others for the rest of the summer, and that new broom you wanted will just have to wait until next year. Pity."

Hellen got up and stalked up the stairs. This always happened. She never quite knew what triggered her mothers temper. But she always managed to the night they got back. Always.

She didn't really care. Not really. Sometimes. Okay she cared. A lot. It hurt the way her mother glared at her and told her that she was messed up. It's not her fault. maybe she wants to change.

It's not her fault. Not really. She just wants to go back to school.

Hellen removed her hat slowly. She sunk onto the bed, pulled her comforter over her, hugged a pillow to her chest and cried.

She really wanted to get back to Hogwarts.

Maybe she did need to change. Maybe.

If she was such a bad person then why did Potter keep pursuing her?

_He's probably a masochist._

_Explains why he tries to kill himself every year._

_Prat._

Hellen reached up and wiped her eyes.

She pulled herself out of bed, walked over to the vanity and looked at her reflection. Merlin, she was probably the worlds ugliest cryer. Her face was swollen and and her mascara was running down her cheeks. She looked like a raccoon. Especially with the hat.

Hellen punched the mirror, the glass breaking under her hand, blood dripping down the shattered face of the mirror. Swearing loudly, she gripped her hand tightly and rushed to the bathroom.

She sighed and began trying to pick out the glass. The ripped skin hissed. Each piece made a small clinking sound as it hit the inside of her sink. All she could hear were the echoing clinks; her mind was numb.

Muttering under her breath in Welsh, she fished for bandages under her sink. When she found them she proceeded to wash her hand, soap stinging the mashed and cut flesh. She carefully dried her hand and wrapped it up.

Well, this was a good start to the holiday.

Her dog, Finbar, was trying to get into the room, scratching wildly at the door. Her mother named him the awful name, she calls him Barry. A house elf must have let him in from the back garden.

Hellen sighed when he started to whine. She made her way over to the door and opened it and was met with the Irish wolf hound krupt mix who ignored her presence. He was a aloof bastard and would ignore you until he felt entitled for a cuddle and would snap if you tried to so much as look at him without his permission. She had got him last year for Christmas. He acted like a damn cat. At least he would be coming to Hogwarts next year with her as he was finally had enough sense not to wander around the forbidden forest and get himself killed. That, and he wouldn't be fool enough to pick a fight with Fang.

Hellen walked over to her bed, sunk down onto it and covered her eyes. She was crushed by him deciding to lay on her legs and nearly snapping them in half in the process.

He would have to stay with them wherever they ended up at after dinner.

•••

It was Sunday night. Family dinner night. That meant going to the burrow.

She loved the burrow. The fresh air, the strange smell of the overgrown garden.

The luxury of never. being. alone.

As she stated before, she really hated people. But really, she did enjoy her time there.

Mostly.

That and aunt Molly has a 'no smoking policy.'

Bollocks.

Her mother will smoke anyways. Aunt Molly will be fine with that. Not Hellen, though.

"Because men find it unattractive, and you want to have a good contract with a good man, don't you, Hellen dear?"

Talk about double standards.

Besides, she didn't want or need any fucking man.

Let alone the contract.

Well. Probably not.

Hellen curled up into a ball clutching her hair painfully tight as the voices returned. Hellen flinched at the shadow in the corner she thought for sure was there and alive.

Nothing was ever there though.

Not really.

•••

The dinner was a huge fiasco.

Percy decided to shove his head so far up Fudge's arse and got the shit he's been spewing in caught in his ears.

So now Hellen was going to go to the friends of her mother's house tonight instead of next week like had been originally planned.

When she got home she started to pack immediately.

_Fucking bloody goddamn prick. I will be sending him a letter telling him clean his ears of Fudge's bilge. Maybe I can train Finbar to crap on his door step. Teach the the you don't leave your goddamned family. Ffycin butain bwganod, rhannau wraig wynebu sugnwr budreddi!_

Dress after dress were tossed into her traveling trunk. Greens and blues could be seen, stockings, underwear, and a variety of blazers and cardigans. She then looked over at her book shelf. She went over and grabbed 'The Catcher in the Rye', 'The Lord of the Rings', 'The Hobbit" and 'Simalerin'. She then packed a separate bag for the cartons of cigarettes that she needs to bring with her just to support her addiction. A addiction that Katherine started by getting her a carton of cigarettes for her tenth birthday stating that when roughly translated to English says, "Elin is now a young lady, a young lady appreciates a good tobacco! When I was her age I all ready had been smoking a pipe for seven years!"

She had to carry her knitting basket.

She was currently working on socks for Luna. Bastards in her dorms kept stealing them as well as her shoes and as a result, Luna lost a pinky toe! Nothing that Madam Pomfrey couldn't regrow but Hellen was on the rampage for days, no one was safe at that time. Anyone who so much as looked at Luna funny was in immediate danger and Hellen would have probably killed them if Luna hadn't pinned her down, preventing the unfortunate student from being mauled.

When she looked down, struggling to carry the bags, she realised she had to make two trips. She carried the trunk down the stairs, raccoon cap placed jauntily on her head, fag hanging from her mouth and a flask of the good ol' fire whiskey stashed in her pocket for good measure. For emergencies. Or just to get drunker than ten Frenchmen. _Well that term is offensive I suppose, it's what mum said. Though she is rather a large bigot._

She smiled at her work and managed to drag it down the stairs to the main floo network, Finbar skulking behind her.

Her mother apparated over to the place where she was staying with the Weasleys bringing Hellen's stuff and Finbar. Hellen grabbed a fistful of power, tossed it into the fire and called, "The burrow!"

She was gone in a flash of green smoke and swirling flame.

•••

Hellen flopped out of the fireplace and smiled up at the gathered people.

"Do you know where we're staying for the 'oliday?" asked Hellen, sitting down and pulling out her knitting.

"No clue," said Fred glumly. What Percy had shouted obviously affected him even though he wouldn't admit it.

"Alright, everybody ready to leave? Good, we will be leaving in pairs. Me and Molly will take Ron and Ginny first, then Hellen and George. I'll come back for Fred afterwards."

Ron and Ginny each stood, grabbed hold of one of their parents arms and disappeared with a 'crack' to who knows where.

"What happened to your hand?" asked George coming to sit by Hellen. Her hands kept twitching erratically.

"It's nothing really. I just punched a mirror the night we got back from Hogwarts is all," she said, flinching when George tried to touch her hand.

"You need to stop doing this," Fred said softly.

"I'm fine, just lost my temper. Better this than something - or someone - else," she said darkly, shrugging and continuing to knit. She wanted to finish before Aunt Molly returned. She needed to floo these to Luna before she left on Thursday.

They sat in silence until Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur returned. She and George grabbed hold of their arms.

•••

She let go of Aunt Molly's arm and followed her down a street to a set of worn town houses. "Here," she said, shoving a piece of paper at Hellen and George. "Read this quickly and memorize it."

She and George did this. A loud groaning started and a house appeared between numbers eleven and thirteen.

"In you go. Norma will explain everything." Hellen and George were quickly rushed inside, down some stairs and into what looked like a kitchen.

Norma Prewett turned from were she stood in front of a fire place.

"Have a seat." They quickly sat at the grubby table. Hellen took out the pack of fags and looked at her mother questioningly. Her mum nodded and Hellen quickly lit a fag. She finally began to stop twitching.

"So, why are we staying in this dump? Looks like no one has been living here for at least a decade."

"That's because they have been in Azkaban," said her mother, looking at her with cold grey eyes, devoid of emotion.

"So we're in a convicts house. Huh. So, what did they do?" asked Hellen, pulling an ashtray out of her knitting bag and tapping the ash off the end before taking another drag.

"Nothing, they're innocent," she said in a harsh tone.

"Cach," coughed Hellen. She pounded on her chest and continued to cough loudly. She got over her 'coughing' fit' quickly. "You can't honestly believe that! I mean, the amount of people who are really innocent is, like, barely a percent of one percent," she said indignantly.

"But he is! He never had a trial," her mother replied icily, sending Hellen a look which Hellen ignored and continued on her diatribe.

"Oh that's highly likely. I'm going to owl Percy. Maybe he was right about being open with politics," she said and stood up angrily.

"But he's family! Distant. But still family," her mother shouted.

"How distant?" asked Hellen snottily.

"I don't know! But he's related to your grandfather Lycoris." She said like it made a difference.

"Please don't mention the family tree. It reminds me that you and father were cousins. Besides, nearly everybody was related to Lycoris," said Hellen with disgust evident on her face.

"Sit down and listen to what he has to say."

Hellen sat down and muttered under her breath.

"Sirius come in here," her mother called into the hallway.

Hellen looked up to the ceiling, praying it wasn't who she thought it might be.

This was going to be one hell of a summer.

A/N:

hi, when I wrote this chapter I listened to a lot of music, here's the playlist, they really don't mesh well with the chapter at all, they just help me write Hellen's character better.

**feel good inc.- Gorillaz**

**Body electric- Lana Del Ray**

**Holland, 1945- Neutral Milk Hotel, and Viking Moses' versions. **

**Diseases of Yore- MC Frontallot**

I'm updating a week early as I'm going to next on a hiking trip next weekend and won't be able to update.

I would like to thank the two of you who have left reviews door this chapter. I had over three hindered views of the last chapter alone and I would really appreciate I you would all leave reviews.

I won't be updating until the review count is twenty.

I finished writing out this story, so when I update really all depends on how many reviews I get.

Im planning on writing a sequel if that helps your motives for reviewing.

Anyways I hope you all have (or had) a amazing spring break.

beta'd by Bride of Spock.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four- Potter gets help.

"So Potter was going to be staying here now?" thought Hellen as she heard a rather furious Potter whining about not being in the loop.

"What a little bitch." She thought crossly with a roll of her eyes.

She stalked past a dosing Finbar and threw the door open with a loud bang. She stood on the landing and looked up to the second floor.

"PIPE THE FUCK DOWN POTTER!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, startling Finbar, who then wiggled his way under her comforter and whined.

"Thank God for the silencing charms on the kitchen door." She thought with a sigh, resuming her sitting on her bed.

It was quite again, thankfully. Finbar sprang from the bed, to continue his own curling up, laying down with a whimper,glaring at Hellen scornfully.

Then she heard a door upstairs bang open and feet pounding down the stairs, her door banged open and an irate Potter stood in the door. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TELL ME TO PIPE DOWN! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I WENT THROUH THIS SUMMER, NONE-". He was interrupted by Hellen who looked over at him and yelled, "PIPE THE FUCK DOWN. I don't care and I won't care. If you are going to stay in here you are going to shut the fuck up because I have to finish summarizing this." She said this vehemently, taking off her glasses and wiping them on her shirt. She replaced them on her nose carefully, as not to accidentally stab herself in the eye. Harry stood there, taken aback. Hellen turned back to the desk and began to scribble furiously in her black leather bound book. "Now, sit down and tell me what's wrong. I can listen and write at the same time, as long as you don't start shrieking like a goddamn banshee." She told him, not turning to look at him; her face mere centimeters from the book. He sat down on the edge of the bed closest to her and was quiet for a few minutes.

Finbar stalked over to him and lolled his head into his lap, whining for attention. Harry startled and yelped in surprise, as he had been gazing at the wall, clearly thinking hard about something. "That's Finbar. He's an aloof bastard, kinda like a cat. He'll be fine though as long as you don't piss him off." Harry just nodded looking curiously at the large dog before scratching him behind the ears.

"So what got your knickers in a twist Potter?" She questioned,flipping a page and setting down her quill. She cracked her knuckles and stretched out a cramp that she had in deep in her hand before she turned towards him with a raised eyebrow, sitting Indian style, legs crossed.

"No one has been telling me anything. I've done more than most of them and I'm the one purposefully being kept in the dark." Hegrowled out, before becoming distracted looking at her exposed legs that were only covered in knee socks and pink running shorts. Hellen snapped her fingers under his nose getting his attention.

"I think the reason they kept you in the dark is that the post can be intercepted. It probably isn't because they want to keep your knowledge about what is happening beaten down. And besides,no one is denying the things you've done. Maybe, just maybe,they are trying to give you a normal life. I think you should take advantage of that, moron." She said looking at him and taking a big drag from her cigarette.

"But you've been here the whole time, you know what they'redoing!" He said deploringly, looking at her, his face flushed with anger.

"The hell I do. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not sitting in the meetings right now. We've been cleaning this hell hole. I've never had to clean in my life before now." She said gesturing around to the dreary room. "Besides why are you getting so upset? This is not about you. It's about him." she said and tapped the ash off the end of her cigarette.

"Not about me? NOT ABOUT ME!" He said with a disgusted expression and went to stand up. She grabbed his forearm and pulled him down back onto the bed with a scowl.

"Listen here you bloody twat. Your parents were not the only ones whose parents he's killed. You may have defeated him, but that was a fluke. And I'm not saying that you aren't good at weaseling out of dangerous situations that you inevitably cause, because you are." She said looking at him fiercely. "But this is really not about you."

They sat in tense silence for a long time glaring at each other,chests heaving from the shouting. Hellen was trying to make a space between them, want to avoid contact with him. The peculiar chair that she was sitting in had wheels on the ends on the feet. The mudblood had suggested it as they were more comfortable, but the chair just angered her. The floor was tilted just enough that she would slowly slide towards her bed.

He looked at her as she put out her cigarette. "Why are you wearing knee socks and running shorts?" He said looking her up and down quizically. "I thought you didn't know what muggleclothes looked like?"

"I have a small amount of clothing that is muggle made. I wearit when I have to blend in, and I had a piano lesson today. I get dropped off about ten blocks from my tutor's house." She said looking at him and picking at a hangnail.

"And that requires you to dress in knee socks and shorts?" He with a raised eyebrow.

"My piano teacher is an old squib in Surrey, if I wore what I usually do I would get strange looks from the muggles." She says with a shrug, before grabbing a box of Altoids she had bought at a corner store on her way to Ms. Fig's house. "You want one?" She asked holding out the box of little white candies to him, shaking it slightly at him.

"No thanks. Is your piano teachers perhaps named Mrs Fig?" He asked casually feigning nonchalance.

"Yeah. Why?" She said leaning away from him with anannoyed look on her face.

"Oh, no reason." He said leaning forward. "How about a date sometime? You, me and the fresh air. We could perhaps go nice walk after lunch." He said wiggling his eyebrows.

"You always have to ruin everything, besides I thought you gave up?" She said with a huff and a poisonous glare shot in his direction. "In case you didn't catch that, my answer was no."

"No, it was a-", the pair was interrupted.

"The meeting is over now. You can come down to the kitchen." informed Aunt Molly sticking her head in the open door.

"Alright." Said Potter as he stood and pulled her up with him. She waited carefully for Aunt Molly to be out of earshot andturned on him and snarled, "My answer was no."

"But Prewett, I know you like me. You just won't admit it to yourself."

"Potter, you might not believe this, but I never considered not sleeping with you a sacrifice." she hissed back.

"Who said I just wanted a shag?" He said looking at her wiggling his eyebrows. SMACK!

"Don't you even think about lying to me. Don't. Even. it." She said lowly through clenched teeth. She snatched her ashtray, stalked out the door and down stairs in a terse silence. Leaving Finbar upstairs in her room and Potter to watch her leave, rolling his eyes.

When she reached the kitchen, the cooking was in full started on helping with the pudding, a rhubarb crumble, made with fresh rhubarb from the back garden. Hellen liked to make deserts. She found the activity soothing and after Potter asking her out when all was peaceful... She needed something soothing to keep herself occupied. She carefully cut the leaves off the stalks and peeled them. She proceeded getting out a large pan and buttering it. She then added some sugars and alder flower cordial. Continuing she mixed the flour, butter, and caster sugar together, poured it on top, put it the oven and set the timer.

She sat down at the table to wait until it was finished. Someone tapped her shoulder and she slapped their hand away. "What do you want?" She asked, irritated glaring up at the shoulder tapper. Her eyes softened when she saw the fading hand print on his face, but quickly grew hard in anger again.

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier, for what I said. That's all." He said defensively.

"Oh, well, fine." She got up and walked over to the stove. "But you still didn't apologize." She called over her shoulder. Harry watched her as she pulled the crumble out of the oven and placed it on a cooling rack before covering it with a dish cloth.

"You know Lily hated James?" Said Sirius looking at Harry with a sympathetic smile.

"She doesn't hate me. She just finds me a touch annoying. We were having a peaceful conversation earlier." He said following her with his eyes. As she filled a pitcher with butterbeer, he rubbed his cheek absent mindedly." What happened with them? Did Dad force Mum to marry him?" He asked worriedly, eyes widening as he turned to Sirius.

"Course not. They got together halfway through seventh year;after your father deflated his head a bit. You see he had this nasty little problem of hexing one of your mum's friends." Said Sirius leaning back on his chair."

"Well, Prewett doesn't hate me. At least, I don't think she does. I mean we can have civilized conversations as long as I don't ask her out." admitted Harry with a grin as Hellen started grabbing goblets out of the cupboard. He waved and she returned it with a raised eyebrow and a look that clearly said 'fuck off'.

"You two will be together by Christmas at this rate." Said Sirius watching her carefully as she managed to grab five empty goblets in between her fingers with both hands. She looked like a demented cat with cups in place of claws. She walked over to the table and set one in front of each chair. Even with her skills, she only got about half of the table done. She returned empty handed ready to get more glasses.

"What do you mean we'll be together by Christmas?" askedHarry his attention snapping back to Sirius, after his moment of distraction.

"So long as you stop pursuing her immediately. No comments, no nothing. Treat her like you would Hermione, a good friend and nothing more." Said Sirius seriously looking at Harry with stern eyes.

"Stop pursuing her you say?" He looked over at Hellen who was coming to sit down by them. "Okay. It'll be a challenge I'm willing to try." He said determinately.

•••

Hellen knocked on the door furiously. "Open up, it's your night to take them!" A bleary eyed Ron opened the door.

"Fine, but you only had them for a night. I had them for the last two." said Ron whining.

"That's because you and Harry live in there, and you two own two thirds of the beasts." Hellen pushed her way past Ron,carrying three rowdy birds whom where pecking and squawking at each other. She set them on the dresser. Ridley her owl was being chased by a wild Pig while Hedwig tried to ignore the both of them decorously.

Hellen looked at the horrified Ron. "Good fucking luck you two. I think Pig is trying to mate with Ridley and I don't want any owlets to deal with." She stated matter-of-factly. Harry and Ron looked at her horror stricken, eyes wide with disgust. "Yeah, best of luck with that whole sleeping thing with the raping Pig on the loose." She stalked out the door muttering darkly.

"Fuck." Harry muttered looking at the randy owls as they squawked loudly.

•••

"Which room are we cleaning today?"

"I thought we could do the drawing room as it has a piano, that way you wouldn't have to keep going to Ms. Fig's house to practice." Hellen smiled with glee. The drawing room had a nice baby grand piano with real ivory keys. She cut into her egg and smiled.

Today was going to be a good day.

•••

When they finished cleaning the drawing room and eradicating whatever was lurking in the piano, Hellen sat down on the freshly cleaned bench. She cracked her long fingers and played Revolutionary Etude by Chopin.

"Merlin's beard, how long have you been playing Hellen?" inquired Sirius wide-eyed. Hellen stopped and turned in her seat crossing her legs.

"I have been playing since I was four, but it was just piano by number. Mum thought it would give me structure and moral fiber, something which I apparently lacked. It was also how I was taught English."

She was about to turn around continue when Hermione asked,"Do you know any muggle songs?"

Hellen turned to face her slowly. "Nope. Why would I want to when I could play songs written by wizards, which are far superior in composition and execution? Now, may I play in peace? Mrs Fig will have my hide if this isn't decent by next week." She mockingly inquired snidely. Hellen started again on Revolutionary Etude by Chopin and got lost in the music. She had adored it and loved the way she could create such beautiful melodies with it. Still, she hated the piano with a passion. The hours she was forced to sit at the piano with a sticking charm attaching her to it until her exercise were tortuous in childhood.

He looked at her with disgust before leaving, not that she could notice. Sirius better be right about this whole 'by Christmas' plan of his.

A/N: thanks to oreoplatzchen for betaing this chapter!

I'm really disappointed in the lack of response.

I really need your feedback. It makes me really happy when I do get it and when I don't receive it I start to worry. A lot. So please review. It really means the world to me. I adore and keep every single review alert in a email folder so I don't accidentally delete them.

I know you guys hate crap like begging for reviews but they help get keep writing and motivate me to do so. Things are slower now but et rust me that's going to change real fast.

Just please review.

Thanks

-Zannie.


	6. Chapter five

Tomorrow is Potter's trial. Damn age technicalities preventing from taking my father's seat. That and I still don't have the other tattoo required to serve on the Wizengamot.

I receivde the courtship tattoo when I turned sixteenlast November. When I become of age at seventeen, I will receive the obligatory runes; the ones I am required to possess in order to accept my heir ring.

It's basically how they prevent the 'Gamot from including anyone but the heads of families. When I marry and have a son, he would need to have the last name Prewett. I am the last hope to the Prewett line to produce an heir; as such wizarding law requires the continuation of the family name. Even so the only manner in which that could happen is if I marry an affluent, upstanding gentleman or lady.

The courtship is fundamentally a pure formality. It's a way to make sure that you don't die alone and continue on the familial lines. Our parents betroth us off at young ages, contractually obligating our futures. Even so with the amount of time we spend together at societal events we are paired off quite young, making us much more comfortable with our partner to be.

Girls must be sixteen to start the courtship process and subsequently tattooed. The tattoo varies depending on your heritage, however typically it's a variation of an intricate cross on a shield affixed to the upper left arm of the young maiden.

The runes depend on the person and their betrothed. If you are not betrothed you are not eligible to get the runes tattooed.

But this is all irrelevant, the reason I was thinking of this was Potter acting like a decent sort. Sort of. Not really but better than normal.

For the past few days Harry had taken to sitting in the drawing room and doing his summer assignments while Hellen would practice piano, as they were today. The comfortable peaceful atmosphere was broken when Potter "What's the point of me even doing the assignments if I'm just going to be kicked out anyways?"  
Hellen stopped playing, not looking back at him sitting at the writing desk by the window. She just knew he was pulling at his hair. He always did that when he was worried, not that she really cared. Not one bit. Fine, she might care a bit. Not enough to truly care though. Fucking Potter. 'He needs to grow a pair of gonads. He'll learn.' She thought darkly before before calling over to Potter, after all his brooding is distracting.  
"I've read the case backwards and forwards. All Fudge can do is make an ass of himself at most. It's a sure fire thing." She hears Harry quietly mutter about being Hagrid's assistant and worthlessness or something.

'Fuck. I would've tried to console him, but if I ever wanted to perfect this piece by this evening.'  
Without getting up from the bench she told him, "It's going to be fine. You know what? If you lose I will go out on a date with you. But that won't happen because you won't lose moron. It's not going to happen." She hears him continue to grind his teeth and begrudgingly crosses the room. She awkwardly pats him atop his head. "There, there." Harry just looks back at her and still looks upset at the thought. "Can I have a hug?" He asked quietly.  
"No. Fuck off; I need to prepare for my piano lesson." She returned to the bench to practice the scale once more when Potter came and hugged her from behind, without permission. No warning at all.

When he finally releases her waist, she stands up and calmly exits the room. He hears a loud crack and Hellen swear loudly. She pokes her head into the doorway and calmly states, "I appear to have broken my pinky in a hissy fit. Would you be so kind as to bring my sheet music to my room, while I try to convince Tonks to heal it and not tell Aunt Molly?"  
All Harry could do was weakly nod in response. She walked out leaving Potter standing there dumbstruck.

"Wait, are you alright?"  
"Yes, Potter, I think I just broke my finger punching a stone wall. I'm fucking MARVELOUS." Hellen spat through gritted teeth, stalking down the hall breathing heavily.

Hell, she wouldn't admit to liking Potter as a person.

Which she did.

Sort of.

Fine. A lot.

"Cach." She muttered to herself and wandered off to find Tonks. Maybe the kind pink haired auror would be willing to help.

Hellen staggered into the parlor, gritting her teeth, to find Tonks and Remus having a heated argument. "I could not care less Remus! I couldn't care more if I t-"  
"Could I ask a quick favor of either of you? I think I broke a finger." Hellen rudely broke in huffing as to try not to cry. She didn't cry in front of others. She was raised to save face; emotions were a weakness.

The pair whipped their heads around to see Hellen crouched around her hand swearing in rapid Welsh.

Tonks grabbed her had hastily and quickly examined it before scoffing. "Ya' only just fractured it at the most! And here you are crying; it's going to be fine. I do this sort of thing all the time, really, just hold still for a second will ya'. I can't fix it if you keep squirming like a worm on a hook. Honestly…"  
Hellen was writhing around as Tonks poked and prodded at Hellen's broken finger before she lost patience and pinned Hellen face first to the wall and grabbed her arm in a half Nelson before tapping her wand on the finger and calling out "Episkey!" And she let go of Hellen who staggered away from the wall, scowling something fierce.

"That hurt!" Hellen whined. She rubbed her aching shoulder ruefully. "Thanks though. Please don't tell Aunt Molly about this! She'll freak out if she finds out!"  
"Calm down, good Merlin! I'm not going to tell her, now off with ya' go." Tonks exasperatedly shoved her out the door. "Have fun with Harry! Mayhap cheer 'im up a bit." Tonks waggled her eyebrows and shoved a spluttering Hellen out the parlor door, closing it in her face. She then, rounded on Remus, who was trying to shuffle unnoticed out the other door.

"Where do you think your goin' Lupin? I'm not finished with you yet!" Said Tonks gruffly, an angry expression on her face. Remus gulped in response and faced Tonks again with a saddened tired face.  
"You know why Tonks. I'm not the person you neither deserve nor really want. All I am is a poor man that wouldn't be able to provide for you. You need someone whole and young. I am not like that. Now, if you'll excuse me." He pushed past her to the door and left a dejected young woman in his wake.

•••

Hellen was off down the hall looking for Finbar to see if he wanted to cuddle, maybe that would cure her momentarily lapse in judgment. The one where she thought that she may have liked Potter.

That was just her imagination at work there playing tricks on her.

But who was she kidding, really.

Only herself at this point. And she wasn't doing a fantastic job with that either.

•••

Hellen was dropped off at end of the block by the corner store, where she would buy her Altoids. She pulled her bag higher on her shoulder landed over to tie her trainer before walking into a wall of black leather, bouncing off she didn't have to look up to see a blond haired boy walking alone with his head down not really paying attention to much around him.  
"Watch it, muggle!" Hellen said and angrily pushed away from the boy, who froze in response.  
"What did you call me?" He sounded more curious then anything really.  
"Muggle."  
"You're one of that lot, aren't you?"  
"What lot?"  
He ignored her question and continued on. "Do you know a boy, skinny kid with glasses, and black hair? He's rather short too."  
"You mean Potter?"  
"Can we talk in private? Don't worry I'm not going to drag you in alley and rape you or anything!" He added to the end when he saw the look she gave him at the term private.  
"Mate, I wasn't thinking that until you mentioned it. I've got to be at a piano lesson in about an hour. Let's go to the park. You want anything from the shop first? If you do try anything Blondie, this dog will kill you. I'm not kidding either."  
"I'm fine, thanks, but I wouldn't say no to splitting a bag of crisps with you if you don't mind?"  
"What are crisps?"  
"They come in a bag and are thin fried cut potatoes. Very good, really." Hellen sighed heavily and walked to the end of the block. This kid was starting to really grate on her nerves.

They were sat at the playground lazily spinning on the carousel eating crisps in an uncomfortable silence. "So. How do you know Potter? Hellen asked trying to make the situation less awkward.  
"He's my cousin. He lives with us."  
"You guys pretty close then?"  
"Not exactly. I kind of beat the tar out of him when we were younger, well really until this summer. He was such a nerd, when he wasn't at home he was down at the library checking out books. How do you know Harry?"  
"We're…" Hellen trailed off looking for words. "It's complicated really. I think I might fancy him."  
"And that's a bad thing?"  
"It could never work out. I'm in line for your equivalent of the House of Lords. My title will be Dominus Prewett, after I accept my chair next year. I can't marry him if I want to be minister. He's not of the upper echelon families. The Potter's... were once a smaller lordship but still... They lost that title and rights to the chair when his parents shacked up. If Harry marries a pureblood girl his son would be able to redeem the family name, but he couldn't."

"You know what? That's stupid." He said waving his arm. "Love is love man, why can't you give up your damned house seat and just shag him all ready?"  
"Dursley, in case you haven't noticed life is stupid. Completely pointless really. Besides we wouldn't last long. He would get bored with the loss of the chase and drop me faster than a lit match"  
"You're a ray of sunshine aren't you?"  
"Pot, kettle." There was a pause were the both just stared off into space thinking.  
"Don't take this the wrong way, but you're kinda like a mate. I mean I originally bumped into you while admiring at your bum when you were tying your shoe lace, but now you are just about as attractive to me as my best mate."  
"Thanks really appreciate that. Why did you change your mind about beating the tar out of Harry?"  
"He saved my life. Or my soul. what ever. It made me realize when the dementors left that Harry was the closest thing I would ever have to a brother. I mean, we were raised together, grew up together and I really can't and couldn't imagine a time in my life when we wouldn't be together. I can't remember a time when he wasn't just, I don't know, there." They lapsed into a calm silence again munching on the tasty crisps. She checked her watch and stood up, the carousel still turning as she grabbed her bag. She looked down at the sprawled out boy who had begun smoking some sort of cigarette.

"Thanks for listening Dursley. I don't know why I told you that. But thanks for it. I really wouldn't feel comfortable telling my friends most of that."  
"My friends would call me a pussy if I said any of that stuff to them. Mates?" He held out his rather large hand and had a hopeful expression on his face. Hellen grabbed his hand and shook it. Sure he was a moron, but unlike Luna, who generally would blame Hellen's problems on other mystical creatures and such, he sat there and listened.

And that's all Hellen really wanted in a friend.

"Have a good afternoon, mate." Hellen grabbed Finbar from where she tied him up at the monkey bars and was off to her piano lesson.

Fifteen minutes late.

•••

"How big of an ass did Percy make of himself?" Harry jumped and looked around startled by Hellen who was leaning on the door of his and Ron's room.

"He didn't say anything. He was the record keeper." He responded and saw a gleeful expression on Hellen's face.  
"A lowly recorded keeper? Ha! He leaves his family to become Fudge's gimp! He will never live this down if I can help it." She had a malicious grin on her face large eyes filled with malice and hatred. Harry hated it when she was needlessly hateful.  
"So anything interesting happen today?" He asked as he watched her. "I finished my summer assignments. I took Barry out tracking." She said walking over, pushing him over back onto the bed and turned to leave.  
"Where are you going?" She looked at him strangely.  
"I'm going to put hair growth boosting potion on my hair. I'm sick of what little I can do with this since Neville singed it off when he melted his last cauldron. You can come if you want. I'll need company for the hour or so it has to stay in." She looked at him and without waiting for a response she walked out of the room with a purpose. "Hey- wait!" And he dashed off after her.

•••

"So what does this stuff actually do?" Asked Potter dubiously as Hellen put some stuff in his hair, while hers was already up in a shower cap. She was using generous amounts of sleek easy hair tamer, seeing if it would calm his curly hair down. 'Although there is something for the windswept thing he has going for him, in a "I'm an asshole, look at me," sort of way.' Hellen mused as she massaged the product through his hair and scalp.

"Let that stay in your hair. It should make it more manageable." Hellen finished and washing her hands in the sink. "Now, let me show you how to comb your hair as I doubt you have ever been able to get one through that-" she gestured at his hair "- birds nest." She carefully ran the comb through his hair and they stood in a comfortable silence. He watched her in the mirror as she worked on his hair. "There now let it dry that way and you'll be fine."

However like a nightmare, slow and menacing, his hair slowly but surely stood back on end. Hellen sat and watched in horror as her hard work reverted back to its unruly self in a matter of minutes. She looked at Harry and let out a heavy sigh, throwing in the towel. "I can see why you don't even attempt to comb it anymore. Now it's time for you to leave. I need to rinse this shit out of my hair. It's beginning to burn my scalp." She shooed him out the door. She didn't want to admit that she was glad that the serum fail, but she was. If he had normal hair, he somehow couldn't and wouldn't be 'Potter the Pervert'.

Normal is not as easy to spot and avoid at a distance either, which would be a great inconvenience. It certainly terrified her to think that someday he wouldn't be there to harass her 'til he was blue in the face. But of course she didn't want to admit that really he wasn't so bad, and so she wouldn't. Not to anyone who might tell him, that is.

As the last day of the summer holiday Hellen's mother decided it was high time Hellen got a haircut. Thus Hellen spent her morning sitting in a chair as her mother dictated what she wanted done to her daughter's hair, which was now slightly lower than the collar bone.

"I think that I want her hair to be less curly this year. So can we have some light layers and see about phasing out the bangs slowly." Hellen's mum ordered the hairdresser snappishly all the while, not looking up from what she was writing in her journal.

Hellen sat there for an hour bored out of her wits. How she longed to be sitting at the piano practicing the latest piece that Ms. Fig had assigned, rather than trapped in a chair. Still she wouldn't be going home for a while yet. Her mother still needed to get her manicure retouched and force facials and waxing on her daughter.

They were in a salon in muggle London, where things were more painful than necessary. Her mother always did say muggles were good for one thing only, and that was to work for wizards.

But that meant the slower way of doing things.

Cach.

•••

When she finally stumbled back into Grimmauld Place exhausted, her face stinging and red, it was only ten thirty. Hellen collapsed on her bed after changing into her shorts and knee highs. Finbar was off with her mother as she was going to be setting up his living situation at Hogwarts so that he could stay with her. He would be going there today as he would probably not be happy traveling on the Hogwarts Express.

She lay face down on her bed trying to get some rest.

"Hellen, I have your letter." Hellen involuntarily flinched as Granger touched her, prodding her until she rolled over on to her back and looked up at her owlishly just wishing for a nap. Hellen grabbed the letter and through it onto the night stand next to her fags.

"Aren't you going to read your letter?"  
"No, I'm not, as I have only my major and minor class to get books for. So it's not really worth the effort to reach over and open it. Now I'm going to continue to try to sleep if you don't mind." Hellen proceeded to wiggle under the sheets until her head was at the foot of the bed.

Hellen was nearly asleep when a high pitched screem pierced the air. Whipping her pillow across the room at the offensive noise, she groaned and rolled over and reached for her cigeretes. Lazy she shouted over the ecstatic teen. "Congratulations." Hellen drawled hand hanging over the edge of the bed occasionally disapering as she would poke her head out enough as to take a drag.

Hermione quickly snatched the cigarette from her and and put it our with her heel.  
"What are you doing Granger?" Hellen said slowly fumbling for her glasses as Hermione backed towards the door.  
"Not until you open your letter. Besides you'll catch your bed linens on fire." "Granger why does it matter if I open my letter? I mean the fact that Lucy Fairfax got knocked up and the position is open doesn't mean I will become prefect, in fact the amount of times I tried to throttle Potter in the halway can attest for that." Hellen got up from the bed and went to grab her letter, running after the bucktoothed mudblood who had dashed off and up the stairs.

As Hellen thundered up the stairs she became out of breath in her pursuit and saw the filth dash into Potter and Ron's room, and quickly snapping the door shut behind her. Hellen put her hands on her knees, out of breath. "Damn I need to get fit. This is what happens when I can't train properly in the summer."

She simply went down stairs and grabbed another pack before laying down and falling asleep.

Harry and Ron looked up when Hermione sprinted into the room slammed the door shut and braced it shut, panting, face flushed. "What are you doing?"  
"Hellen refused to open her Hogwarts letter so I took her cigarettes." Harry, Ron, Fred and George looked over at her with horror. "Why did you do that?" "because Hellen is to smart just to have her academic record thrown out of the running for prefect. She's a born leader. Groomed from birth for this thing."  
"Looks like you'll be authority figures with your lady love." Said Fred with a wicked gleam in his eye waggling his eyebrows at Harry, while George made kissy noises in the background.

•••

"You're bloody crazy; you know that right?" Said Harry looking down at the lounging Hellen whom was smoking lazily and summarizing the Daily Prophet in her journal.

"Every great leader is touched in the head. I'm not exempt from that." She stated calmly scanning his face with her eyes, an unreadable expression on her face as she slowly gave up trying to write. "And I'm also a prefect."

"Bullshit."

"Nope."

Hellen looked up at him, looking ashen.

•••

Hellen stared at her book blankly thinking too much to actually be absorbing the greatness of The Once and Future King. She was plotting what her next move would be after taking the position of Head Girl. Currently, she was debating between becoming a full time 'gammot member or being a transfiguration mistress specializing in battle transfiguration. Hellen knew exactly what her mother wanted her to do: go into the Wizengamot as a seventeen year old girl, completely unprepared for the inevitable slaughter of her political career. Her other option was become a consultant for the ministry during various auror training clinics; affording her the opportunity to scope out the climate before fully taking her seat when she was in her late twenties and hopefully not make an ass of herself in the process.

"What's this?" asked Hellen as she came down stairs after her shower to find the kitchen filled with people.  
"Mrs. Weasley is apparently throwing a little party for us becoming prefects. Are you okay?" Potter inquired from the bottom of the stairs. She looked down at him, and straightened her purple dress glaring at him as she adjusted her glasses and fixed her headband.  
"I'm just fine, thank you." She replied shortly and continued down the stairs, pulling Altoids out of her pocket.  
"Do you want one?" She asked him after she had reached the bottom of the stairs.  
"No thanks." He said as they stood there in an extremely uncomfortable silence, neither of them knowing what to say, finally Hellen spoke.  
"Sorry about nearly killing you, when I freaked out and punched the wall, I really have no excuses for that."

"Yeah, that was a bit over zealous." Potter ran his hand through his hair and looked away uncomfortably.  
"I'm going to go talk to my mum, see you later Potter." She pushed past him and ran over to her mother who gave Hellen a hug. Hellen's arms wrapped around her waist and she smiled. This was the first hug Hellen had gotten from her mother since she was very small.

"Why do you even enjoy her company anyways? She seems like she has a stick in the mud." Asked Sirius looking at him as Harry watched Hellen who was talking to Kingsley Shacklebolt about some of the methods he was using to throw the ministry off of Sirius's trail.

"Unlike other girls when she walks, she doesn't swing her hips when a boy walks past, she just walks. When she's sad she doesn't let people see her cry, she stays stoic and maintains composure. She's almost too smart for her own good, that itself causes her to be socially inept. She helps me put things into perspective. I love that she's the first person I want to talk to when I wake up in the morning and the last when I go to sleep at night. To her I'm just Potter, not the boy who lived."

"You do realize that all pure bloods are related, and Hellen is no exception? I believe she is related to the Weasley's on both sides. You guys are most likely fourth cousins, probably closer."  
"All pure bloods are related?"  
"Oh, how did you expect them to stay pure? I'm related to Molly and Arthur somehow. My parents were cousins; my mother didn't even need to change her name after they got married."  
"That's sick."  
"It may be sick, but it's not uncommon. I believe Norma is first cousins with Gideon's mother and her parents both had Black blood as well; her father being Lycoris and her mother, Elladora, was also her second cousin, who was a Crouch making her second cousins with Barty Crouch as well."

Harry just sat there not taking his eyes off of Hellen. She was laughing with her mother about something, she saw Harry looking at her and smiled and waved over at him. Harry felt his stomach flip flop with butterflies and returned her smile with a wave. She walked away from her mother to join the conversation.

"What other traditional pureblood customs are there that I should know?"  
"Well for starters everybody is named after each other. I'm Sirius Black the third. My brother was Regalus the third. Fred and George are named after Gideon and Fabian."

Hellen leapt into the conversation "My mum is named after your grandmother, Dorea. I'm named after my great aunt Elin on my father's side. Mother choosing the 'proper Christian version' as the name I go by. Merlin knows why, we're pagans and so was she but who knows what goes through that woman's head. Anyways, I was also named after my mum's sister Charis, the late Barty Crouch Senior's wife, I don't remember much about her other then she always carried a glass of wine in one hand and a cigar in the other, she also taught me how to knit. Bill is named after Uncle Arthur and Ron after his Uncle Billius. Ginny after Molly, the list goes on and on."

Harry watched her face as she spewed the facts with a pleased look on her face. She yawned hugely and stretched "Well, I'm going to call it a night. See you in the morning."

Harry watched her as she went up the stairs and out of sight.

"Don't people who are the products of inbreeding have a high rate of mental illness?" Asked Harry nonchalantly looking anywhere but at Sirius.

"I should suspect so, especially the Blacks. Why?"

"No reason."

A/N betad by oroplatzen, THANK YOU SO MUCH.

none of you review. That's fine. It hurts but it's okay. I love and cherish all of them and do review replies to all. I'm getting discouraged. Oh well. Nothing new.

THANKS TO ALL WHO FAVORITED AND FOLLOWED, it means the world to me.

until next time, darlings.

Zannie.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

_Hellen was having the most peculiar dream._

_First of all, she was being chased down an alleyway, by whispering, mocking shadows. She had seen these out of the corner of her eye on a multitude of occasions. Whispering, taunting, teasing her, beckoning to her._

_For what reason, she didn't know._

_She didn't want to know._

_From the hase of darkness, a hooded figure, almost aggressively, strode forward grabbing her around the throat, squeezing, too hard... so hard..._

She woke with a start on the first of September, a pair of perturbernt eyes peering at her face. Kreacher. Of course. She and the little elf had formed a almost strange kinsmen ship when she found him after Sirius had scarred the poor thing. She had been occasionally helping him hide objects for himself to remember "kind mistress Black" and in exchange he would simply plate her hair for her. As it turned out he was quite skilled at the task.

However, this morning she found the elf teary eyed. Hellen was not used to over emotional elves. (Her mother kept their's under claiming drafts as there's were only a century old and rather rambunctious still. Kreacher was old when Phineas Nigellus Black had acquired him from a lost bet, along with his family, all of which were hanging on the wall were well over six hundred.)

However seeing the distressed elf somewhat frightened her, closeted in a home where emotions were a sign of lack of moral fiber, she quickly got out of bed and gently, but quickly, ushered Kreacher out to the hallway. She hoped she was quick enough not wake the mudblood or Ginny with the distressed elf cries.

"Kreacher! What on earth is the matter with you?" She squatted down to his height, knees cracking loudly in the process.

"Ungrateful master has destroyed mistress Bella's and Cissy's photograph!" the little elf wailed, pointing to the photo in question, empty of occupants. Hellen, desperately trying to avoid a tantrum from the temperamental creature, simply grabbed his hand. Trying to be friendlier, she pulled him into a uncomfortable hug, Hellen rubbing his earsin. It was a loose effort to sooth him. She picked him up and carried him down stairs to the kitchen, setting him on the rickety, three legged stool before rummaging in a drawer for some tape.

"This," she held up the tape to Kreacher, "unfortunately will have to do for now, as I cannot perform magic outside of school yet. I think you should wait a while before attempting to fix this. After all, you wouldn't want to damage the photo, would you?"

Carefully, Hellen tore off a piece of the tape and rolled it into a circle. She places it between the broken corner of the frame, holding it together. Hellen holds up the paper, showing creature how to unwrinkle the photo and tape the glass back together.

"There you go Kreacher, now off you get."

Hellen turned around and stifled a scream when she saw the mudblood standing in the doorway. "

What do you want mudblood? And wipe that smirk off of your face. If it wasn't for the way you fought with Ronikins, I'd swear you were going to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy. That is if he would lower his standards to such filth." Hellen spat scornfully, pulling a pan from the rack in the middle of the kitchen, setting it on the stove. Oddly enough, all wizarding stoves relied on natural gas, which was produced from a little disk in each burner. Hellen fishing out the matches from the front pocket of her robes and quickly turned on the stove top. Once she had turned it on, she played a game she recently learned. Strike a match and throw it at the pilot light quickly and not setting off a fireball.

"Why do you have to be a such a narrow minded git?"

"I feel your world views and trying to stamp out tradition is appalling. You should stop before you make even more of a spectacle of yourself."

"Well, if they're barbaric, then yes, they should be cut from society. Besides, what does mudblood really mean? I hear it all the time and really never understood the meaning."

"You know how much of a uneducated swot you sound like for saying that? House elves die when not bound to a family, so your viws are very barbaric. Getting on the subject of barbaric tendencies, do you think are practiced in wizarding culture? Oh, do go on," Hellen said condescendingly, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow from its hindering spot behind her glasses. Reaching into the chilling cupboard, she pulls out the loaf of bread, eggs and bacon. She carefully slices the tomatoes and bread.

"How many sandwiches do you want? I'm having two and I'm going to make Kreacher one for later."

Clearly startled by her offer, Hermione curtly replies, "I'll have two as well. But you can't honestly say that some of the customs aren't a bit sexist or immoral? I mean, in the muggle world it's illegal to marry your cousins! And the tradition of only young women getting marked for availability for contraction and betrothal is awful! I hear its one of the worst pains a woman can go through. And don't even get me started on the cruel animal sacrifices that the pagans do! I mean the blood of a virgin dear! How cruel. Women can't even get abortions in the wizarding world! They have to go through unimaginable trauma of delivering a baby that is unwanted! "

"First of all, the marking for marriage actually is extremely useful. Not only does it bind the user to a chastity contract until betrothal, it prevents rape of the women from any person, including spouse. Later it helps prevent pain in child birth, higher rates of successful pregnancy, and a less likelihood of loss of a baby. _And _mothers lives. Secondly, I think it's disgusting that you think its alright to murder a baby. All babies are precious and cherished in pureblood society. Not a single one unwanted. I hope to eventually have children, and the thought that chickening out was a option and I wouldn't be able to experience that child and their growing up to be a remarkable person is disgusting. I'm a pagan. _She_ would be disgusted with me, and instead of being reborn when I die I would be sent to _Him_. I don't fear God, but I highly doubt that in his book, snuffing out lives of infants is alright. In fact, the first weekend that we go back to school I have to return home to honor my patron goddess Arianrhod. And yes, I will be killing a deer. But the fact that its a virgin is much more important then anything. It's not only giving its life but the live of all the potential children it could have had."

Hellen grabbed two plates from the cupboard and quickly divided the sandwiches onto the two platters.

"What do you want to drink?"

"Pumpkin juice please."

Hellen grabbed Hermione's food and set it in front of her.

"So Granger, you wanted to know what mudblood really means?" said Hellen, tearing a chunk out of her sandwich, carefully rereading the first sentence of the article, waiting for Hermione to respond. The simple nod of the head was confirmation enough for Hellen, who continued on after a long drink of coffee.

"It refers to the fact that mudbloods, like yourself, have the ability to clot their own blood." After a pregnant silence, Hellen continued on. "It has to do with the fact that everybody is everybody else's cousin. Or supposedly. For example, my mother wasn't under a fidelity contract, and around the time I could have been conceived was the height of her interviews. More likely then not I'm not actually a Prewett. I've narrowed down a few candidates for whom could be my father, Niles Baker, Ludo Bagman, and Olaf Anderson. However, the reason I'm still aloud to carry the name is because I am to contracted to Neville Longbottom, the document has already been drawn up and is just waiting for me to mature in order to accept the ritual marking. I had also been blood adopted by Gideon Prewett a few weeks after my birth, when apparently my hair was coming in dark dark brunette, exactly matching my parents lighter completions. Or at least that's what my old nanny told me.

"Neville Longbottom's grandmother is a sister to my auntie Muriel, whom never married. Also with my mother's mother being a Prewett and married to the last Dominus, I will be the heir and my children will even have a more of a right to the position of head of house. Infidelity is encouraged and is used to diversify the bloodlines. The reason I think those three could be my father is because they are all hemophiliacs."

"Why would it matter if they had hemophilia?"

Hellen wordlessly held up the knife next to her plate and made the tiniest of cuts on her thumb, a tiny droplet of blood started to form building up steam. Blood ran down her wrist and into her night dress, dripping onto the table with and a tiny circle of blood was formed. Hellen then went to the cabinet and pulled out a vial of clear liquid and quickly downed it. With its main ingredient being grape seed extract, it caused it to taste much like nail polish remover. However, that was something she was used to. All of her childhood she had to drink that on the first of the month, otherwise risk of bleeding out was a reality.

"You see Granger, this stuff," Hellen wiggled the vial at the slightly green girl. "costs the equivalent of my mother's by month paycheck. And her, well, being the chief correspondent of the sports column for the last thirty seven years, you can imagine she is payed very, very well. So you see that being a hemophiliac in this world is pricey, and only the most wealthy of them all can afford to have this most noble of diseases."

Hermione just stared at her with mild disgust "You think it's a honor to, to have this! There must be something else wrong with you, seriously wrong with you if you think it's normal. Or _noble_! To have a disease that, if you so much as get a bad paper cut, you could die?"

"I know it's noble, Granger. It's a mark of my excellent breeding. There was a bidding war between the Longbottoms and the Dunbars."

"But the Dunbars only have girls?"

"The wizarding world doesn't discriminate with homosexuality. All in all, it's a very sex positive environment. Our children are taught that being bisexual, is best for the family in terms of negotiations. More options to choose from. I was almost disappointed that Fay's family didn't win. They're from Ireland, and the rumors of them having more then a little faerie blood in them would really have diversified the gene pool, not to mention risk of squibs would be a absolute zero chance."

"Are you bisexual?"

"No, but that doesn't mean that a marriage can't take place. In wizarding society, marriages are usually not consummated. And, if the couple not choosing to engage in intercourse, they would simply need to make a visit to St. Mungo's, and a few potions later the couple would be expecting in nine months. However, it's encouraged by most pagans that the baby be conceived during the festivals, Boaldyn, Samhain, Imbolc, and Lughnasadh. Most noble houses engine as to increase the family magic and favor with Mother Terra."

Hellen picked up the empty plates and began washing them. Hermione contemplating what Hellen had said.

"But isn't your birthday in November?"

"My sire wasn't a pagan. I'm almost positive he was some sort of Christian. His mother came from the Ellewood-Luxe family. Still very prominent today, I still visit them for Easter break, occasionally during winter break, although I won't this year because of myself being contracted. Devout Catholics the lot of them."

Hermione watched her carefully, a spark in her eye from learning this tedious drivel that Hellen found quite boring to relay.

"Do you have anymore questions?"

"Yes." Hermione watched her, sipping her pumpkin juice. Hellen was now scrubbing the fry pan with a bristle brush, making a lot of noise, as it was methodically scraped across the copper pot. The swishing sound it created relaxed Hellen's nerves.

"Your question?" said Hellen, a tinge of annoyance growing in her as Hermione started drumming her nails across the surface of the table. Hellen gripped the brush tighter, itching to hurl it at her to make it stop the god forsaken drumming. Taptatap taptatap.

Hellen dried the pan and hung it back up on the ceiling. She then grabbed down the tea kettle for aunt Molly.

"Your question?" Hellen slumped into the rickety chair, causing it to groan loudly.

"What is it that makes Looney act so strange, always knowing what people are thinking, their motives? Truths they haven't yet discovered abo-"

"Next question."

"What?"

"Next. Question." Hellen gritted through her teeth. The truth was Hellen didn't know. She was related to the Olivanders, but that was about Hellen knew of the Lovegoods. Although the Mudblood didn't need to know that.

"That was my last question."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a coon hat to find."

•••

Hellen carefully stowed her last comic book in her bag. Looking in the mirror, her high necked, long sleeved, blue floral and cream dress made her uncomfortable. She always disliked wearing this shade of blue, it would make the blue colors in her skin stand out more. This caused her already pallid complexion to make her look like she was half dead. That, and this dress was horribly itchy. She made her way down the stairs, stumbling under the unwanted height, looking odd with the raccoon hat.

Her trunk was already in the hallway, ready to go along with Ridley, who unfortunately had a nest and eggs with her.

Now a useless post owl.

"Hellen, for Merlin's sake, wear the jumper."

"I'm not going to be cold mother!"

"_I don't care!_ Now wear the jumper!"

"Fine. Cach..." Hellen was promptly smacked upside the head by the shorter witch. Rubbing the back of her head, she glared down at the tiny woman. She easily was a foot taller then her, her heels helped a bit with that though. "_And I don't want to hear that kind of language, young lady_. Now put on your jumper."

Her mother held out the offensive dark purple woolen sweater. She had received it a few holidays ago from aunt Molly, and now finally the offensive sweater had fit. This apparently meant to her mother that she had to wear it constantly.

Hellen wasn't partial to the sweater. Her mother, on the other hand, was fond of it. Apparently 'it brings a pretty blush to your complexion. You normally look too ashy, and who would want such a disgraceful looking individual as the minister, I certainly wouldn't... How could they run a country if they don't know how to dress themselves properly.'

"Now it's time for us to head out, come along Hellen." And with out further warning, her mother had yanked her out the door into the crisp air. Strolling down the sidewalk with a purpose, Norma Prewett made sure her daughter made it to Kings Cross in what she was sure was record time.

However, as soon as they reached the station, her mother pulled her into a empty bathroom. Warding it shut, she turned back to Hellen, sighing in disgust. She continued, not beating around the bush.

"I'm going on a mission for Dumbledore that I don't intend to come back from." Carefully she observed her daughter. The tall cynical young woman is what she had always hoped she could mold her daughter into. The dark arts had always came easily to the both of them. She found this out when she had her daughter brutally kill her nanny over Christmas break. Having the child have an affinity for lighter magics wouldn't suit her in the future. She had to make sure of that in order to prevent the light magic to grab hold of her at such a young age. Otherwise, future plans by Mother would end up being much, much more complicated then necessary.

Of course, after the child completed her task she was promptly oblivated. Couldn't have anyone finding out about that.

After all, mother knows best.

Her daughter cried, loud heaving sobs that almost had her throwing up. Her daughter was quite the ugly crier. Suddenly, she found the over-emotional child clinging to her tightly.

Such weakens was disgraceful. Though, maybe it would be more disgraceful if she didn't care.

"I have a present for you."

Prying the child's clammy arms off of her, she pulled the carved box from her purse. Handing it to her, Hellen tried to pry open the box, but couldn't. Looking down at her mother, mascara stained cheeks and smeared lipstick and all.

"It won't open until you have fully accepted my passing. What remains inside won't hold any meaning to you until accept the fact. Only then willgifting this to you truly mean something."

Hellen, wide eyed, stared down at her mother. She felt the soft lining handkerchief her mother kept in her purse wipe the tears from her face. Closing her eyes, she asked, "Who will take care of the contracting once your gone."

"Andromeda Tonks, that peaky looking bitch. Abandoning her duties to her family. But no matter... Best I could find on a moments notice. I have already transferred custodial guardianship to her. She'll make sure you're kept on track for your goals. She is already going to be spending lots of time with you... And it would save you the commute during the summer. Now listen to me good. You _will_ respect her as much as you would me. Now, she has requested that you call her Mater, her husband has asked for you to call him Dad. Too informal of a name to command respect if you ask me... I love you darling, don't forget to feed Finnie." Pausing a moment to compose herself, she continued. "I was always proud of you. I will always be proud of you. Everything I do is for you."

"I love you to mother. Love you too. I couldn't be more proud to have you as my mum." Forcing out a watery smile, Hellen composed herself.

"Hold on, your teeth are yellow, let me..."

All of a sudden, Hellen let out a yelp of pain. A sharp pain had jolted through Hellen's teeth.

"Much better, now ready to charm Madam Longbottom?" Her mother's mother honing, she knew was just guilt, for not being there.

"Yes mum."

"One last thing..." Her mother produce a small velvet bag about the size of a book of matches. Seeing this, she sent her mother a quizzical look.

"Wipe off you're glasses, there smudged, dear. These are your two rings of inheritance. First one for after your contracted to bind the family magic, second one for?"

Looking at her daughter for her to finish her spiel. "Second for becoming Dominus. These are supposed to be worn of the ring finger of my left hand and the middle finger of my right. When I receive my engagement ring, I will have my fiancé switch the contractual ring to my right thumb and the Engagement ring on that finger my wedding band will be placed, on the same finger." Hellen rattled this off in a monotones voice, clearly she learned well from Katherine.

"Now leave, you can mourn later. I'm sure you have a meeting to attend, becoming prefect and all."

"But, mum!"

"Oh and one more thing, don't name your children after me. That name won't be respectable after the Profit twists my death. _Go!_"

And that was the last time I saw my mother.

•••

Finding Neville wasn't that hard. That gawking bastard was ogling Hannah Abbot and Finch-Fletchly having a rather heated "hello". That, and he is taller then nearly anyone else at the platform.

"Oi, Neville!" called Hellen, snapping her fingers under his nose. "What? I see your hair is growing back fine, just like I told you. No lasting damage."

He grumpily looked around at her, not pleased with this development.

Well. The fact that he was apparently not the only one to have noticed Hannah's summer _improvements_. He had been passive aggressively following Hannah, while every other nitwit flirted with the beautiful blond girl.

"Listen here, mate," hissed Hellen, grabbing Neville by his large ear and dragging him along as she frantically searched for Luna. "I've made a revelation. This summer, if we are gonna end up hitched, you and me are going to need to have a best friendsmenship like partnership. Otherwise your grandmother will end up continuing to treat us both like children. I don't like this any better then you do Longbottom, but for fuck's sake, shut up about it! You had your chance and you wasted it being a creep, not even speaking to her. Get over it."

"You know that really isn't a issue. Gran still will treat us like kids."

"Listen here chave. I'm a sixth year, that means I'm a whole year ahead of you on this whole angsting after people business. I have been resigned to the fact that we're going to get married, so lets not make this any more painful then possible. Do you think that if I had a choice that I would choose you? Maybe if I had a goddamned choice I might not marry my cousin, hmm?"

"Shut up Hellen. I agree to your terms," Neville scowled.

"That a boy," Hellen smiled, releasing his ear when they where far enough from the beautiful girl. "Help me look look for Luna? Oh, and that reminds me, could you keep her company while I have to patrol? I should be back before the trolls comes around."

Neville, slightly less moody now, pulled Hellen on his back into a piggy back ride, something they have done since they were small. Growing up, going to social functions with him, affirmed a begrudging alliance that had taken a pause after Neville burned her hair off when she was trying to figure out a potion with him.

Maybe this whole friend thing could work. At least there would be one thing to look forward to this year

Because really, what was there to be happy about? Her mother might as well be dead, she keeps hallucinating terrible things around her, and she wants in the pants of a mentally unstable fifteen year old boy that she was almost pretty sure that she might be dearly in lust with.

Or something.

Damn, she really needed some booze. Might as well write Rosmerta now.

Then again, Ridley was useless.

•••

"Hellen, dear, I do hope that you are a better example then Lucy to the younger students. I mean, we wouldn't want another student to drop out suddenly, now would we?" said Claudia Woolworth, the head girl for this year, leader of the transfiguration club, and a vapid bitch.

"Of course not." Oh hell, I wanted to wring her neck.

"Because we all know how easy you are Claudia. I mean..." snickers Cormac. Hellen and Cormac have been on speaking terms off and on through out the years, occasionally in a small relationship since the third year. But since the Yule ball, where he was her date, when 'mysteriously' his hand up still found its way up Claudia's skirt.

Yet another evening I had spent with my great friend, Mr. Ogden's best fire whiskey.

Good times.

"So Hellen, what classes are you taking this year? We all know how you got those nine OWLs."

A flustered Claudia, cheeks red with embarrassment, stammers, "Well, I have decided that I'm doing battle transfiguration, later being a consultant for the Ministry."

"What classes does that require?"

"Transfiguration and Ancient runes. Runes I'll still be taking with Sinistra, and I'll be visiting madam Tonks for transfiguration for my apprenticeship."

"I heard how you applied for that Claudia, and you know weren't accepted.

"I assume I can leave now, correct?"

"Knock yourself out," gestured Ernest Clemmings, head boy, towards the door.

Truth was, the only good grades Hellen got for her OWLs were the O in transfiguration and the E in Ancient runes. The rest were borderline As. And in borderline she meant almost P's.

Hellen may not be an idiot, but she also had no patience for stupid classes. For example, Arithmancy. The one class her mother practically brow beat Hellen into getting good grades in. In all of history, the only people Arithmancy would be useful for are seers, or people interested in divination. Although, her mother was, from what she heard, an _enthusiast, _to say the least. Necromancers, people who could raise the dead, also found this a useful skill. A highly dead branch of magic that was nearly completely destroyed when Grindelwald died after one of his lackeys, some squib called Hitler something or other, was killing people for his army of infery.

Killing muggles was a waste of time, after all, polluting the nighttime with light and blocking out Hellen's view of the stars, they really ever did to her. She wasn't too chuffed about it.

It's like squishing ants. You can never kill them all just by poking them to death against the sidewalk. You would need a pretty harsh pesticide killer ally to stand a chance to even decimate them at all.

"So, Prewett, I see the summer has been kin-" said Cormac swaggering over.

"Shut up, Cormac. Remember I'm still under a chastity contract. I remember how that wasn't your 'thing' to be in a celibate relationship."

"Oh, yeah. Forgot about the small detail that, if I give you more then a peck on the cheek, I'll get a heinous rash for the rest of my life. I mean, it's not like we haven't kissed before the contract kicked in. I mean, if I don't have my needs met... Well, boys will be boys..."

"'Macky, you cheated on me. I can't be in a relationship where, if a different guy so much as hit on me, you'd beat the shit out of them. I remember all those stupid fights you and Harry used to have, his nose would have never been that straight naturally, neither his teeth, if you hadn't used all of those bludgeoning hexes."

"Elle... Don't you miss us?" McClaggen said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind her, running his nose along her neck in a manner she wouldn't admit. It sent shivers down her spine.

"Nope," Hellen swallowed, pushing him off of her.

"Good. Now it won't be as awkward when I tell you that I'm dating you're dormmate, Dawn." He said with that a bright smile she hated so much.

She cuffed him roughly around the head and flatly said, "Macky, you're a arsehole."

"So I been told." he smirked cockily.

"Fuck off, go find Dawn and knock her up like you did Lucy, you whore."

"Oh believe me, it's my pleasure."

Hellen frogged him on the arm at that. "Swine."

Really. What did she ever see in him?

•••

By the time Hellen crawled into bed that night, completely exhausted, the murmurs, once something she could easily ignore, now felt like their hoarse whispers were steadily getting deafeningly loud.

By the time she cast a silencing Charm on her bed hangings, she allowed herself to finally break down. But some how she couldn't cry. Dry sobs were all she had left. She was disappointed in herself, her mother was dead, she should be sad.

But she wasn't.

Not really.

It was almost like some third cousin you talked to twice a year at awkward family gatherings that you didn't like that much had died. She couldn't believe that she would have to call a set of people Mater, and Papa was unimaginable to her. They weren't her parents. Well, her parents weren't really her parents either. The only parental figure she ever had was Katherine, and she was long gone.

For once, Hellen wasn't fine. Not at all.

But, as Hellen felt the uncontrollable shaking from her fear start, she curled into a ball. Almost feeling the hands of something not quite human touch her.  
Hovering.

•••

Sorry for the break in updates, my longtime girlfriend ended things.

I really would like to hear some feedback, and thanks to everybody for the follows and favorites! They mean a lot.

Thanks to Hungergameslover04 for being a fabulous beta.

I updated my prologue so if you didn't read that, you should. I'd like to think it sucks less then it did. Less mush.

Anyways I hope you have a fabulous summer, and this story will be finished before next year.

I hope.

-Zannie


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

When Hellen awoke that morning, she had a feeling of dread course through her. She had to meet at least one person that she would be living with until her marriage or Neville's graduation. After Hellen continued on with her daily routine, she quickly made her way up to the headmaster's office. Pulling the password out of her pocket, she quickly looked over it once again before prodding it with her wand, causing it to burst into flames falling to ash on the floor.

"Blood pops."

The gargoyle leapt aside, revealing the spiral staircase. Knocking carefully on the door, she heard a gentle, "Come in."

She entered into the office filled with the beautiful paintings of past head masters. "Good morning sir."

"Good morning, Miss Prewett, would you care for a lemon drop?"

"Yes please sir, thank you sir." She hesitantly grabbed one and popped it in her mouth before sitting down in front of him. "Sir, I've been curious, how will I be making to to my mentor's studio?"

"I have a house elf that will be taking you there and back, Winky."

CRACK.

A tiny elf stood ridged, reeking of butter beer, trying to suppress hiccups. This elf looked oddly familiar. "Uncle Barty and Auntie Charry's elf?" she asked, looking at the old coot curiously before getting up from her seat and holding out a hand for the small elf to take.

And with that they popped away.

•••

They popped back into existence right outside of a pretty, brick house. As far as she could see, it was fairly isolated. She bid Winky a fair well and walked towards the two story house. Cautiously knocking on the door, she was curiously inspecting the strange little button by the when it suddenly swung open, revealing a middle aged woman with a kind face, twinkling blue green eyes, and carmel colored hair.

"So, you're Hellen."

"I am."

She looked over her critically before examining the six foot girl. "Come in, we won't be going to the studio today. I wanted to discuss with you what kind of dedication this specialty will take. Give you a chance to back out, before you become my apprentice," she said leading her to the parlor. She gestured for her to take a seat.

"I understand that your mother has informed you of the situation, yes?" Hellen nodded quickly in response before the women continued. "I expect from you, if you should take this, to be completely dedicated. To put this fist before all other endeavors in your life. This includes friends, family, sports, clubs, and any asinine arguments. Also, you're going to have to quit smoking. We need you at full lung capacity. That and, as your guardian, I prohibit it. It's a nasty habit that stains your teeth and gives you wrinkles. Do you want wrinkles at the age of twenty? No, you don't. Now, I'm sure your mother has told you this but, we, my husband and I, would like to blood adopt you. No big changes would be made to your appearance, as you already have the Black family looks. Just some minor stuff, your skin would reset its pigment so your freckles would disappear, your hair might not be such a pail red color, as Ted's hair is quite brown. It may turn a auburn color. Basically, it will make you look like you could be our child. Are you opposed to this?"

"No-"

Andromeda interrupted her again "Good. Call me Mater, Ted wants you to call him some variant of dad. Your choice really. Now, as for diet. In this first year of training, I want you to cut out all animal products and you to supplement with a nutrient solution. You'll also need to start fencing lessons, although young Dominus Longbottom is a champion sword fighter. Maybe you could convince him to give you lessons. I also want you to start flexibility training. It will help you in our later lessons."

Pausing temporarily, she looked down at the young girl. "I want you to be happy. I know about your mother, she wasn't the most pleasant woman, and I know she didn't try to make sure you were happy and healthy. I also want you know that you can talk to me or your father at any time. We will support your decisions."

Hellen sat there and stared at that woman blankly for a moment. On one hand, she was livid how nonchalant she was being about her mother's death. Hellen, in all honesty, didn't care about the death in of its self, no. What she really was peeved about was having to answer to a parental figure. For the last five years she was left to her own devices, with little to no human contact, something that suited Hellen just fine. On the other hand...

"I have only one request, and it's not a big one."

"What is it, honey?"

Oh, fucking Bollocks, she was one of them.

A pet name user and abuser. The worst kind person in Hellen's book.

'Well,' Hellen thought to herself, 'you can grin and damned well bare it, maybe if you do she won't be as clingy.'

"Mater," Hellen arranged her face in a sweet smile and looked up at her almond eyes innocent. "All I want is a box of comic books, once a week, and a few good science fiction books."

Andromeda looked down on her with a shocked expression before sending her a smirk. "Done. So, I have a few papers for you to sign and we will be finished up for today."

It seemed they reached a middle ground.

That didn't change the fact she found her annoying and clingy. But, Hellen couldn't help feeling it was supposed to be that way.

•••

Tonight was Harry's first patrol. Hannah had suggested they spit up to make things go faster. He couldn't but help agree with that sentiment. It was getting rather late him roaming the many corridors and halls, when he heard a soft humming coming from a broom cupboard and curiously opened it. The sight he saw before him completely stunned him. Hellen was sat on the floor, a cauldron bubbling merrily. The liquid inside was a deep red color. She sat, carefully going through a box of comic books, placing them in plastic sleeves. Next to her was a bottle in a paper bag. Hellen seemed to be looking through a funeral catalog, looking at caskets. Ink colored her arms as she merrily hummed to herself, seemingly ignoring him.

"Get in or out Potter, don't gawk. It's unbecoming. Besides, your letting out the fumes."

Harry dumbly looked down at her. He had imagined from the time he was twelve about getting her in a broom closet. However, this, wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

"What are you doing exactly, Hellen?" He gestured at the scene in front of him, closing the door awkwardly, standing the corner fidgeting under Hellen's intense stare. With a sigh, Hellen, with a wave of her hand, transfigured the box into a long cushion. Setting it next to her, she motioned to him, patting the spot next to her.

"Come, sit down, anything to stop your twitching."

Harry clamped the side of his face and decided to do something bold. He laid on his side and placed his head in the Hellen's lap.

"My mother has popped her clogs, Potter, or at least she will soon."

"I'm sorry."

Harry had spoken to the woman one time. She seemed nice enough if a bit haughty and distant.

"No your not. Help yourself to the growing collection of comic books, courtesy of my new 'parents'. Apparently, they want to support my every endeavor, including, collecting comic books."

She let out a huff of air, taking a long swig of whatever liquid was contained in the bottle. Looking up at her, he took the bottle and took a drink of the contents and spluttered, coughing hard. "What's even in here? It tastes like paint thinner."

"Red current rum, oh and the last of my buttered rum. Possibly some vodka." She smiled down at him. Running a hand through his curly black hair, she gave a genuine laugh at his affronted looking face.

"What is the matter with you? Luring a younger, mentally unstable student into a broom cupboard and drugging him with cheep liquor that could take the curl out of my beautiful locks. What do you think that's going to accomplish, unless you plan on molesting me. Although, I wouldn't be too apposed to that, tell you the truth, just be gentle with me. I'm fragile," he said in a dry voice and reached for a comic book. "You know you actually never answered my question."

"I never intended to, Harry."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Hellen absentmindedly combing her fingers through his hair, resuming her humming.

"Hellen?" His voice broke the silence, leaving a ringing behind it.

"What is it Harry?" Hellen looked down into his green eyes.

"I want to tell you something."

"You just did."

"Hellen, I am trying to be serious."

"Don't. This is a happy place. And you really should tone down the whole teenage stress. Sure he's back, live your life to the fullest. He's probably not going to be after just you. And cool your jets about the whole pissing off toad face. What you could do is concentration on the positive and not the negative of the situation, maybe the dumb fucks will leave you alone if your not quite as vocal. Maybe you could create a discussion group for angsty outcas-"

"Hush, I'm trying to say something."

"Don't ruin the conversation. I was having such a pleasant time."

Harry quickly pulled her down and kissed the corner of her mouth. She quickly pulled away, pushing his head off her lap and filled it with her hands, nervously picking at a hangnail. He twisted around, sitting up as he did so, back against the wall, one knee bent up, elbow resting on it, other hand absentmindedly missing up his hair.

"Seriously. I have been in love with you since I first saw you."

"Harry, quit faffing about. You're fifteen. Your not in love. Being in love with someone means they are your utmost concern, the one you would kill for, would die for and survive for. I'm not that person, and if I am, I'm morally obligated to inform you we could never workout. This tattoo on my arm here basically forbids it, herpes being the punishment of choice it inflicts. Besides, I doubt you even remember how we met."

"I remember the first time I saw you."

"When was that?"

"My sorting. I remember that your hair was in that thing with the plaits, being all criss-crossed and pinned to your head. I also remember you not having glasses, and ignored the whole sorting. I stood up after taking off the sorting hat, and you were sitting next to Percy, writing in that book of yours."

"That must have been before my near drowning."

"How did that cause you to join the crappy cornea club?"

"Grindlows have sharp fingers. I have some scaring on my cornea, and I take potions monthly to slowly remove it." She removed her glasses before polishing them on her jumper thoughtfully.

"Couldn't you just regrow your eyes? Because you know, being nearly blind not only sucks, but is nearly a compleat disadvantage."  
"They wouldn't be my eyes, Harry. It's one of those things that just isn't right. Just because you have the ability or the means to doesn't mean I want to. It would feel like quitting. Although my left eye hasn't really gotten any better, or healed properly. If I get one more injury there, I will have to have my eye removed. Although, I suppose I could see if I could get a magical eye. Much more fun. However, I wouldn't feel right about being able to see through people's clothes. It would be like my whole life is a locker room. Which would be gross, I don't feel the need to see what's under the headmaster's robes."

"I would do anything to be able to see properly. Do you know how dangerous it would be for me if I had lost my glasses during one of my 'excursions'? It would have killed me."

"That doesn't prove anything, Potter."

"What?"

"Number one: that having glasses is bad. Two: that your delusional state concerns me. You just want in my pants."

"Oh, I want in your pants alright, but I also want to grow up build a life together. Move in together, have a few kids with you. Your family loves you Hellen. I'm just in love with you. Always have been."

"You're a weird person, Harry. What teenage boy wants to be in a serious relationship before twenty?"

"The kind who doesn't want to fuck anybody else for the rest of his life. I see what I want, it's just a matter of time before you realize that we where always together, even when you were faffing about with McLaggen."

"I thought we agreed that you didn't and couldn't, and that I didn't want that," she lied through her teeth. She didn't want to get married. Sure being in a committed relationship with a man would be awesome, but getting married to said man before she turned twenty seemed stupid.

He ignored her and continued on, "Hellen, what I was going to say was you have been breaking my heart every day since I first saw you. And darling, its been a gratifying and satisfying experience for you to have broken mine. Quit playing games, I see the way you eye me in the halls when you think no one is watching. Undressing me with your eyes."

"I don't know how to respond to that."

"Good."

Hellen released a breath that she didn't know she was holding, heart pounding hard in her chest. She took a sip of the cheap alcohol, not for pleasure really, more for the fact that she needed so-mething to distract her from the heavy silence the persistent awkward bastard spewed into the poorly lit broom cupboard. She picked up the essence of hellebore before adding three drops to the potion and quickly turned off the cauldron.

She then quickly conjured a set of simple wooden cups before worldly filling them both up.

"Do you want some of this? It will help you with that lack of growth spurt."

"No, I'm okay being this short."

"Harry I'm six foot, and that's when I'm not wearing my heels. How tall are you exactly?"

He muttered under his breath, something she couldn't quite hear. "What was that?"

"I'm five four, okay? I'm a seeker's build. I'm supposed to be small and speedy."

"Well then, if this is the height you're supposed to be, then drink this. At most it will just balance out the holes in your diet."

"Fine, just let me sit up will you darling."

Muttering incoherently under his breath, he sat up, taking the solution. The now sickly swampy green substance was slightly fizzing in the glass. Hellen picked up her's and swallowed it in one go. It tasted revolting, what she imagined a mix of old gym shorts and goblin piss would. However, she didn't bat a eye, used to the potions. She had taken the stuff for her pupillary sphincters, her pretentious way of saying her cornea, even though it was used completely incorrectly.  
Stupid humor.

"Merlin, that was awful," Harry wheezed, eyes dripping. Hellen's heart beat a steady tattoo against her ribs, stomach twisting pleasantly as he pulled her head onto his shoulder and grabbed her hand, playing with her fingers.

And for once, a conversation that didn't involve him asking her out. They both knew that there was no need. Hellen, with her now obscenely large comic book collection, knew Harry would want to medicate off of.

The conversation had ceased for quite some time, both of them absorbed in what they where reading, soaking in the warmth radiating off of the other. "You should probably get going. Hannah is in the corridors all by herself, the perpetual wandering spirit, defending the crime ridden passageways. While your sorry arse sits here and sponges off of my delightful bribe of my guardian, who is trying too hard to get me to like her, and not be a moody teenager," she said this to him, fighting to keep the grin off of her lips.

Harry looking at her, green eyes sparkling with mirth. "You are such a good example aren't you? Sitting here getting inebriated off of cheap alcohol."

"To be fair, Potter, my mum is pretty much going to die any day now. Cut me some slack."

"Sorry."

Hellen lightly nudged his prickly jaw with her nose, letting him know it was alright.

"Watch out, I need that pillow you have deigned to lay yourself across as my box again," she said and gestured towards the remarkable amount of now finished, neatly stacked pile of newly protected and pristine issues. He stood up and she removed her wand from the makeshift bun in her hair and poked it with the tip, concentration extremely hard on transfiguring it back. She then removed the crystal vials from her bag and set the ladle off on filling them.

She looked over to see Harry had placed her comic books into the box. She packed up her potions kit, cleaning out her cauldron with a muttered evanesco. She shrunk it down and stuffed it into her bag.

"Thanks, Harry." She pulled him to his feet, grabbed her items, slung her bag over her back, and was out of the broom cupboard and down the hallway, teetering only slightly as she went, a light weight by no means. The guilt from not feeling anything about her mother's death returned heavily on her shoulders. All she wanted was to was to feel guilty.

And getting drunk off cheep liquor and fleeting with Potter in the broom cupboard was one way.

This was just one terrible mess. Her mother wasn't even dead yet, and no news was good news. Maybe when her mother finally did croak and she got wind of it, there would be some feeling.

Her mother, always the wishful thinker. There would be no word of her death. Hellen's and the ministries efforts combined. She didn't need possible allies and enemies knowing about this. It wouldn't look like a strong united front.

•••

"Longbottom! Just the surly fellow I was looking for!" Hellen sat down next to him, a uncharacteristically toothy smile on her face.

"What do you want, Hellen?"

"I would like you to teach me how to fence."

He looked up from his newest plant, a happy little grey thing that would let out a happy little humming sound when it's needless. The cactus-like being was being stroked.

"Why should I?" His voice was cautious.

"Because I can't drink liquor anymore or smoke. I need a outlet."

"Start running. Knit aggressively, pull a spindly boy into a broom cupboard and fool around with him. I don't care what you do but let me just have a hobby that I am actually good at."

"Your the king of everything that's green, or planty."

"So eloquent. But no, my uncle Algie and I share a greenhouse at home. This is the one thing my grandmother has ever praised me for."

"Here's the thing, I need to learn this skill, and you know I already run and knitting is useless unless I have something I need to knit. And for the spindly boy, I would if you know, wouldn't get herpes from that lovely contract."

"Fine. I'll make you a deal, I'll give you a lesson if you A. Knit me a hat, I misplaced mine and can't remember where I put it. B. You and me have to plot how to get out of this hell hole of a situation. No offense, but I would rather be locked in a pen with Hagrid's Blast Ended Screwts."

"I agree to that."

"To what? The bit about you knitting me a hat or the bit about how being married would be ten pounds of awful in a five pound bag?"

"Both. And stop with the metaphors, if your going to use them at least be original with how shitty it would be for us to be married. If you're not willing to put effort in that, then were already off to a dreadful start. Oh and we are going to have to go to Hogsmeade and pick some out some yarn. I have to get my rings resized anyway. We could stalk Hannah and 'practice' our banishing charms on rubbish, or at least try to hit Justin's face. Oh, right, there's something I want to talk to you about, but it can wait. Anyways I have to go home tonight, Patron goddesses don't honor themselves, you know. See you around, Neville." She got up quickly and scurried away from him before he could say no. She would have to see if she could rope Luna into this with her.

Shopping with Neville had never been a enjoyable experience, and besides Luna needed some gloves that didn't have tiny holes in the from savage roommates. They were on the top of the very long list of people she hoped would die in this upcoming massacre.

The fucking war.

•••

"So, Hellen, do you have any nicknames you go by?"

Hellen looked up from the dead face of the fish she was staring at before. Living by the sea most of her life, there had always been an abundant amount of fish on the dinner table. She looked into the eyes of Ted Tonks, unimpressed. He clearly didn't read the file. "Hellen is my nickname, Papa."

Andromeda was leaving the area until the ritual was over. The resulting atom would drive Andromeda crazy, as her magic was tied to the water element. Hellen, on the other hand, was aligned with the fire element. She instinctively was repulsed by water, it being the only weakness to fire. Living by the sea meant that she knew how to swim. Not that she enjoyed it.

"Oh." His thin face dropping for a moment. "How about I call you jellie-bean?"

Just before Hellen was about to spit out a fervent 'no', she saw his grinning face and twinkling brown eyes. She smiled at him, a surprisingly large grin on her face. Maybe she would finally get a dad. One like Percy had.

"Sure papa, I'd like that."

His brown eyes lit up and a large smile appeared on his face. He patted the back of her hand. "So, how's school going?"

"Great, papa."

"So, got any friends, boy trouble?"

"Papa!"

"I'm just asking!"

"I've made friends with Neville Longbottom. I've only got to speak with Luna in passing so far, I'm sure we'll catch up at one point or another."

"So. Neville Longbottom. Nice boy is he?"

"We're getting married."

"Excuse me?" He inhaled a bit of fish at that. Hellen worriedly leapt from the chair and raced to the end of the table, clapping him on the back until his coughing stopped. Eyes watering, he looked round at her. "What do you mean your getting married?"

"Papa, it's like when Mater was contracted to Sirius Black. That kind of deal."

"Sirius was more then happy to marry Andromeda."

"Me and Neville are only friends. If you saw the way he follows Abbot around."

"Ahh. No need to explain more."

"Mom and I would never hardly speak to each other." She went and sat down back at her spot, taking a revert sip of water.

"Hellen, your mother and you might not have gotten along the greatest, but Andromeda isn't always the best with feelings either... I want you to know, jellie-bean, that I will always be here for you. No matter what. Besides, I have a great collection of comic books in the basement, if you want to look at them over Christmas break or something."

It lapsed into silence only momentarily before Hellen cleared her throat. "Thanks papa. I really appreciate that."

"Dora and Andromeda had always gotten along when she was little. Do you want to do some sort of father daughter activities tomorrow before you have yo head back?"

"What were you thinking?"

"A bonfire."

Hellen's head snapped up at that, a wide grin on her face. "Papa, I think we're going to have a remarkable reporter between the two of us.."

"Great to hear that, jellie-bean."

•••  
Carefully, Hellen placed the last runic elemental stone in place. Dragging the deer forward, she stroked it behind its ears, waiting for midnight to approach. She had spent nearly a day on creating her gift. If the goddess would accept her offer, the deer would die.

If not...

Well. She hoped it wouldn't come to that.

•••

Hours later, Hellen had passed out body, not able to handle the sudden increase of magic around her. She awoke suddenly, gasping for air. Unable to feel anything in her toes and soaking wet, she looked over to the dead deer on the ground and smiled at the small sapling in its place.

It had worked.

She crawled to the back porch and forced her exhausted body to its feet before continuing on into the house, grabbing a towel from where she left it on the banister earlier. She trudged into the bathroom, sneezing loudly before stripping her wet clothes off of herself and grabbing the bathrobe. Exiting the bathroom, she climbed up the stairs, knees shaking uncontrollably before opening her room door. The white walls and dark wood floors where strange to her, used to the brick of her old room.

Climbing into the silky cocooning warmth of her bed, she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep. Flinching every so often, words pored silently from her lips that she wouldn't remember in the morning.

•••

Hellen awoke early that morning. She needed a moron that didn't have much way in common sense or motivation to go talk or spread her thoughts around. Normally, she would have talked to 'Mackey about this, however, she wasn't in the mood for his bullshit at the moment.

If only she could talk to Harry about Harry. She suddenly perked up.

There was one person... She smirked before grabbing a sheet of plain white paper.

Yes this would be quite fabulous.

•••

Stumbling down the stairs, blazer trailing slowly behind her, dragged along by a tired Hellen. She smelt a beautiful aroma of sweet potatoes and kippers being cooked. She wasn't in a particularly good mood that morning, an itching in the back of her mind for her morning cigarette was causing her to become forgetful and antsy.

"Hey, Ellie jellie-bean. How did the shenanigans go last night?" It seemed they had come to the same conclusion. Both pretend they were completely comfortable with the situation that they were put in.

"It went smoothly as possible. You now have another sapling in your yard."

"Great, Andromeda should be home soon."

"Good, good..." She trailed off before figuring out how she wanted to word what she was going to say next.

"Papa?" she asked tentatively.

"What is it jellie-bean?"

"Do you happen to know the address of Smeltings?"

•••

"Hellen!"

Hellen, who just had returned from the strange in counter with the Tonks', smiled happily at the young blond who was bouncing down the corridor.

"Luna love!" She scooped up the girl and spun her into a hug. "Do you want to go to the kitchens? Maybe grab some sort of pudding?"

"Let's. I want to talk to you about something."

Hellen took off her heels, the remaining height difference was only a head as a result.

"So, you finally figured out where the kitchens are?"

"I took a peek at the master map in Professor Dumbledore's office. Come on."

Luna and her linked pinkies and they strolled down the main stair towards the Hufflepuff corridor. "How have classes been going this year?"

"Fine, fine."

"Anything particularly interesting happening in Luna land?"

After a pregnant pause, Luna's voice had gained a clear quality something that happened once in a blue moon for the younger girl. "I'm worried about daddy."

"What's wrong with your dad Luna?"

"I think he is getting worse. When I came home for this summer, daddy had forgotten for several days at a time to eat and do simple things. I had to constantly remind him. I don't know if he is going to be okay when I go home."

Hellen looked down at Luna with wide eyes before gently pulling her down the Hufflepuff staircase.

"Well, where is your famous advice, huh? What the hell am I supposed to do about my father? What am I going to do?"

"I don't know. I could possibly get a house elf to go check on him sometimes..." Hellen's voice was wavering nervously around Luna when she got like this.

"Absolutely not. I can't have him seeing them. He likes to preform vivisections on humanoid creatures."

Luna's voice was becoming dream like again and Hellen, who wanted to make sure that she understood what she wanted, snapped back a tentative response. "I could always make sure he didn't see them..."

"Yes Hellen. I think that would do fabulously. Now lets go get some treacle tart, I haven't had that in quite some time." Luna released her pinky and skipped ahead down the hallway, a dreamy childlessness present that made a small smile grow on Hellen's lips.

"Oi, towhead, wait up!"


End file.
